tIM.MM.,  ■■  ... 

■JHHIHH 


oin 


\U 


s 


''•MM     M      .IHUMlumUli.i      ,  fr  > ,     , 


•  '  k» IMIII 


■L 

if  1 

i  II  fir 

mfisffli 

Hi 

'"inilwJV 

Hi 


llllill 


FROM   THE   LIBRARY   OF 

REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,   D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM   TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


^»##c/.  +s/**t4*4f> 


A   D  V   E 


A  MYSTERY. 


ARTHUR   CLEVELAND    COX. 


K*tWjr(L\eve\a~N^CoKe 


NEW- YORK  : 

JOHN    S.    TAYLOR. 
1837. 


Entered,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1837, 

BY    JOHN    S.   TAYLOR, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the 

Southern  District  of  New- York. 


G    F.  Hopkins  &  Son,  Primer*. 


TO    MY  FATHER. 

Father,  as  he  of  old  who  reap'd  the  field, 
The  first  young  sheaves  to  Him  did  dedi- 
cate 
Whose  bounty  gave  whate'er  the  glebe  did 
yield, 
Whose  smile  the  pleasant  harvest  might 

create  — 
So  I  to  thee  these  numbers  consecrate, 
Thou  who  didst  lead  to  Silo's  pearly  spring ; 
And  if  of  hours  well  saved  from  revels 
late 
And  youthful  riot,  I  these  fruits  do  bring, 
Accept  my  early  vow,  nor  frown  on  what 
I  sing. 


PREFACE. 

The  poem  thus  submitted  with  diffidence 
to  the  public,  was  commenced  without  any 
idea  that  it  would  ever  assume  its  present 
form,  or  indeed  that  it  would  at  all  extend 
beyond  the  limits  of  a  proper  pastoral  ec- 
logue. It  was  originally  designed  for  the 
ear  of  a  few  friends  alone,  and  as  part  of 
an  entertainment  for  a  Christmas  Eve  ;  and 
this  plan  has  been  exceeded  without  any 
intention  of  making  a  book,  only  because 
the  subject  itself  interested  me,  and  I  had 
the  leisure  to  pursue  it. 

Since  its  completion  I  have  been  invited, 
by  circumstances  equally  favourable  and 
unforeseen,  to  lay  it  before  the  public ;  and 
in  yielding  to  such  inducements  I  have  only 
to  regret  —  what  may  not  prove  so  disad- 
vantageous in  the  issue  —  that  my  first  ap- 

1* 


VI  PREFACE. 

pearance  as  a  candidate  for  popular  appro- 
bation, should  be  in  a  style  of  poetry  but 
little  adapted  to  popular  demand.  New 
poetry  is  in  itself  but  little  desirable  or  de- 
sired. And  yet  this  is  the  case,  not  so 
much  because  as  students  of  old  English 
lore  we  justly  feel  that  the  "  old  is  better," 
as  because  these  latter  days  have  already 
so  largely  contributed  to  the  stock  that  was 
rich  before.  We  feel  as  if  there  should  now 
be  an  end  of  verse-making.  Poetry  is  itself 
unpalatable  to  our  satiety ;  and  since  the 
public  taste  has  been  so  surfeited  with  the 
racy  romance  of  the  later  British  writers, 
there  is  in  particular  but  little  relish  for  the 
austerer  forms  of  beauty,  in  which  the  muse 
was  accustomed  to  present  her  moral  be- 
fore these  dazzling  days.  Yet  if,  as  I  am 
led  to  believe,  there  still  be  those  who  can 
stoop  from  highest  fancy,  and  leave  the 
storms  of  passion,  to  tread  the  quiet  walks 


PREFACE.  Vll 

where  Poesy  was  wont  to  lead  her  votaries 
of  old,  I  trust  that  my  humble  attempt  to 
plant  a  new  pleasure  in  their  pathway,  will 
not  fail  to  find  those  who  will  at  least  ap- 
preciate the  endeavour,  whatever  may  be 
their  opinion  as  to  the  advantage  gained  by 
it  to  the  scenes  that  their  spirit  loves. 

I  suppose  I  may  be  pardoned  a  few 
words  with  regard  to  the  work  itself. 
Owing  to  the  circumstances  of  its  compo- 
sition, and  the  straitness  of  my  original 
design,  the  poem,  though  written  in  a  dra- 
matic form,  can  scarcely  be  designated  by 
any  one  of  the  titles  which  are  usually  ap- 
plied to  works  of  that  description.  There 
are  parts  of  it  which  partake  much  of  the 
character  of  the  idyl,  others  which  belong 
more  to  the  oratorio  than  to  the  regular 
drama,  and  others  again  which  are  more 
conformed  to  the  manner  of  the  old  masques 
of  Ben  Jonson's  time.     Yet  on  the  whole. 


. 


V1U  PREFACE. 

as  the  subject  is  one  so  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  Scripture  narrative,  I  trust 
I  have  not  erred  in  giving  it  the  old  monk- 
ish title  of  a  mystery  —  a  kind  of  play  which, 
although  of  little  repute  in  its  original  form, 
has  of  late  assumed  a  dignity  to  which  I  am 

A 

conscious  nothing  may  be  added  by  my  own 
contribution,  however  well  intended. 

I  am  well  aware  that  a  poem  written  in 
dialogue,  and  divided  into  scenes,  generally 
raises  the  expectation  of  an  intricate  plot, 
and  that  if  such  be  the  anticipation  with 
which  this  may  be  read,  I  shall  entirely 
fail  to  give  that  satisfaction  which  I  cer- 
tainly desire  to  afford,  I  would  therefore 
embrace  the  opportunity  of  confessing  be- 
forehand, that —  although  I  hope  there  will 
be  founcj  in  it  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and  an 
end,  of  its  own  kind  —  there  is  nothing  of 
a  catastrophe  properly  so  called,  nor  is  the 
poem  in  any  way  calculated  for  stage  effect, 


PKEFAl'E.  IX 


or  even  for  ideal  representation.  As  it 
professes  to  employ  the  dramatis  persona 
only  to  avoid  the  historical  form,  I  trust  it 
will  be  deemed  sufficient,  if  the  parts  be 
found  naturally  linked  together,  and  the 
unities  in  no  way  very  grossly  violated. 

In  conclusion,  it  may  not  be  improper 
to  remark,  as  some  palliation  of  the  errors 
and  imperfections  that  may  be  discover- 
able by  the  critic  not  only,  but  also  by  the 
general  reader,  that  the  work  was  ready 
for  the  press  before  the  author  had  com- 
pleted his  nineteenth  year,  and  has  not 
received  the  benefit  of  older  or  more  ex- 
perienced supervisal.  And  though  youth 
as  an  apology,  for  what  itself  should  have 
prevented  from  coming  into  cognizance,  is 
like  the  plea  of  him  who  adduces  his 
inebriety  as  an  excuse  for  his  crime,  I 
cannot  resist  the  feeling  which  nature's 
self  has  given  me,  that  very  possibly  that 


PREFACE. 


which  is  no  plea,  may  yet  be  influential  in 
my  favour,  with  hearts  that,  like  my  own, 
are  human. 

Auburn,  September,  1837. 


ADVENT. 


PERSONS    OF   THE   DRAMA. 

MEN. 
Zacharias. 

Omar,  chief  of  the  Wise  Men. 
Reuel,  a  Shepherd. 

WOMEN. 
Elizabeth. 
Serah,  a  Shepherdess. 

OTHERS. 
Ithiel,  a  superior  angel. 
Adiel,  an  attendant  Spirit. 
Hecate. 

Somnus,  a  Demon  supposed  to  cause  unnatural 
slumbers ;  Shepherds ;  Tlie  Wise  Men ;  Shep- 
herdesses;  Choruses,  etc. 


ADVENT. 

Scene,  a  grove  near  Bethlehem.     Time,  Sunset. 
Serah  enters  with  another  Shepherdess. 

Serah. 

See  yonder  in  what  glory  sinks  the  sun  ! 
The  wanton  clouds  that  overhang  the  hills 
Seem  airy  shapes,  that  lighted  by  his  smile 
Bend  o'er  his  path  to  watch  him  as  he  goes. 

Shepherdess. 

Like  a  young  bridegroom  to  his  night's  repose, 
So  steals  he  to  the  purpled  ocean's  breast, 
While  the  chaste  eve  o'ercurtaineth  his  rest 
And  Hesper  smiling  lights  his  lamp  of  love. 

Serah. 
Meanwhile,  how  glows  the  pathway  he  hath  left ! 
Those  tints  all  varied  as  the  arching  bow 
2 


14  ADVENT. 

Shine  but  like  it  —  sure  pledge  of  sunny  days, 
And  golden  omen  of  a  dawn  as  bright. 

Shepherdess. 
But  first  the  omen  of  an  eve  as  fair ! 
Say,  gentle  Serah,  shall  we  hie  at  once 
To  Reuel's  lawn,  and  there  with  dances  light 
In  past'ral  sports  pass  off  the  dewy  hours  ?  — 
Or  shall  we  rather  wait  till  moonlight  comes, 
And  then  with  singing  and  thy  warbling  lute 
Go  serenade  the  stars  ? 

Serah. 

To  Reuel's  lawn 
Thou  know'st  I'd  rather  go.    But  oh,  I've  thought ! 
This  breezy  hour  puts  music  in  my  soul, 
And  frolic  in  my  limbs  —  come,  come  with  me  : 
I'll  tell  thee  what  I  think  on  as  we  walk. 

Shepherdess. 
Gladly  I'll  hear,  there's  music  in  thy  talk ; 
And  if  thou  art  so  sportive  as  thou  say'st 
I  read  it  well — for  thou  would'st  dance  to-night ! 

[Exeunt,  and  Adiel  appears  from  another  direction. 


ADVENT.  15 

Adiel. 
How  soft  the  landscape,  and  how  balm  the  breeze  ! 
So  winter  in  this  climate  is  disarm'd 
Of  his  chill  terrors,  and  advances  bland 
As  the  ripe  autumn  of  far  northward  isles. 
Not  thus  in  distant  Thule  does  he  come, 
Or  in  the  island  where  the  druid  priest 
Binds  his  rude  altar  with  the  mistletoe  ; 
For  there  loud  tempests  trumpet  his  approach, 
And  winds  shrill  wailing  mourn  his  tyrant  reign. 
But  here  —  all  mild,  all  gentle  is  his  rule  ! 
Thrice  happy  land,  where  e'en  so  stern  a  king 
Bears  but  an  olive  rod — his  temples  shorn 
Of  his  old  frosty  locks  —  wTith  smiling  brow, 
And  girt  with  Pleasures  for  his  councillors. 
Here  the  knit  months  seem  children  of  a  birth, 
Offspring  of  Autumn  and  the  laughing  Spring : 
Here  Harvesting  and  Seed-time  join  their  hands, 
The  Day  still  smileth  on  the  husbandman, 
And  Darkness  blasts  not  with  unwholesome  dews. 
Come  then  soft  Twilight,  with  thy  shadows  come. 
And  with  thy  loneliness  and  stillness  too. 
I  wait  thy  charmed  hour ;  and  o'er  these  hills, 
That  swell  so  graceful  and  so  green  around, 


10  ADVENT. 

I  long  to  see  thy  dark  blue  veil  outspread, 
And  its  soft  broidery  of  the  heavenly  hue 
Gemm'd  with  new  lustres,  deep'ning  still  in  shade 
Till  the  starr'd  Eve  succeeds.     Sink  low  proud 

Sun, 
And  haste  thee  Evening !    Ere  thine  earliest  star 
Shows  glimm'ring  through  the  golden-tinted  west. 
Here  shall  bright  Ithiel  meet  me,  earthward  borne 
On  wings  whose  glitter  might  outvie  the  dawn, 
Or  shame  yon  ling'ring  orb.     He  comes  to  bring 
New  mandates  from  above,  and  to  require 
The  rendered  story  of  my  deeds  below. 
And  I  unblushing,  save  wTith  modest  joy, 
May  cheerful  meet  him  !     Hither  was  I  sent 
With  olive  wand  to  charm  the  world  to  rest ; 
To  lull  the  raging  people,  and  to  calm 
The  heavings  of  the  troubled  nations'  strife : 
And  long  the  labour  —  but  at  length  'tis  done. 
All  ended  is  mine  errand,  and  the  Earth, 
Deck'd  like  a  bride  to  welcome  her  espoused, 
Smiles  to  th'  enamour'd  s4kies,  and  woos  her  King 
To  stoop  forgiving  to  her  pure  embrace. 
He,  like  the  pearly  dew  on  tender  herbs, 
Down  to  these  flowery  hills  ere  long  shall  come ; 


ADVENT.  17 

And  like  the  grateful  showers  that  glad  the  fields, 
And  bid  the  valleys  bloom  in  purer  green, 
So  shall  his  presence  bid  mankind  rejoice, 
So  shall  his  smile  make  glad  the  utmost  lands. 
And  Saba's  kings  shall  greet  him  with  a  gift, 
And  Tarshish  and  the  isles  shall  own  their  Lord, 
And  Ethiopia  lift  to  Heaven  her  hands. 
So  shall  all  Earth  adore  him,  and  e'en  now 
His  gentle  reign  is  in  the  world  begun. 
Huslvd  is  the  noise  of  war ;  and  morn  no  more 
Is  waked  by  clangours  of  the  threat'ning  trump, 
But  comes  all  ruddy,  roused  by  virgin's  lay, 
By  shepherd's  shout  upon  the  grassy  hills, 
And  reckless  whistle  of  the  merry  boy, 
That  drives  to  pasture  or  to  forage  free 
His  father's  lowing  kine. 

[A  shepherd's  flute  is  heard.] 

Ah  well,  ye  swains, 
That  pipe  your  flocks  from  browsing  to  the  fold, 
Well,  may  ye  thus  with  woodland  minstrelsy 
Welcome  the  close  of  gentle  twilight  round. 
That  comes  no  more  to  veil  the  ambuscade, 
Nor  yet  to  glow  with  he  a  v'n- affronting  fires 
That  from  beleagur'd  cities  flout  the  air. 


IB  ADVENT. 

Oh  times  more  blest  than  poet  e'er  hath  sung  ! 
More  happy  than  the  heathens'  reign  of  gold, 
And  brighter  far  in  sweet  reality 
Than  fancy  ever  fram'd.     So  earth  once  more 
Is  worthy  of  the  perfect  hand  that  made  ! 
And  I,  delighted  with  a  change  so  fair, 
Still  range  this  lower  sphere,  and  live  on  earth. 
Though  by  high  birthright  native  of  the  skies. 
—  But  soft !  Here  comes  bright  Ithiel  at  length 
Winging  through  rosy  dews  his  shining  way. 

[Ithiel  descends."] 
All  hail,  superior  spirit !  I  await 
Thy  high  behest,  and  ready  will  obey. 

Ithiel. 

Fair  spirit,  hail  !  we  meet  on  earthly  ground  ; 

Yet  on  so  great,  so  glorious  an  eve, 

And  at  so  holy  and  so  pure  an  hour, 

That  our  celestial  virtues  need  not  fear 

This  low  descent  from  converse  with  the  skies. 

Adiel. 

Aye,  'tis  a  low  descent — yet  worthier  now 
Of  our  pure  natures,  than  'twas  e'er  before 


ADVENT.  19 

Since  man's  first  parent  from  his  Eden  fell. 

Oh  hapless  fall ! — Yet  say,  bright  hierarch, 

(For  I  full  long  have  been  exiled  from  heaven,) 

How  soon  our  throned  King  himself  shall  bow. 

As  long  design'd,  to  taste  this  low  descent ; 

To  lay  awhile  his  ardent  Godhead  by, 

And  for  a  season  put  the  semblance  on 

Of  man's  unworthy  and  defiled  flesh  ; 

Until — though  lower  than  the  angels  made  — 

All  things  be  subjected  to  human  feet, 

And  the  apostate's  serpent-head  be  crush'd. 

Ithiel. 

Oh  joy,  bright  Adiel !     This  night  he  comes 

To  be  incarnate  of  a  virgin  pure  ; 

And  as  on  cherub  wings  he  flieth  down, 

Bowing  the  skies  and  yon  blue  canopy, 

Ten  thousand  minstrel  servitors  are  set 

To  page  his  burning  pathway,  and  to  hymn 

The  glory  of  descending  majesty 

On  glitt'ring  harps  to  heaven's  outdazzled  stars. 

All  glorious  shall  the  princely  pageant  be  ; 

And  royally  shall  our  Messiah  ride  ; 

For  songs,  and  symphonies,  and  paeans  sweet 


20  ADVENT. 

Shall  breathe  his  mercy — as  his  thunders  oft 
Outspeak  the  vengeance  of  his  injured  law. 
And  doubtless,  Adiel,  thy  work  is  done, 
And  all  thine  errand  well  accomplished 
For  this  long-promised  hour. 

Adiel. 

All,  all  is  done, 
And  finish'd  are  my  labours  here  below  ; — 
Oh  blessed  hour  that  thus  repays  my  toil, 
And  brings  his  advent,  scarce  so  nigh  supposed  ! 
Oh  lift  thine  eyes,  blest  Ithiel !  see  around 
How  these  poor  children  of  the  erring  pair 
Have  learn'd  at  length  becomingly  to  live 
In  sweet  fraternal  union.     Europe's  sons 
In  courtly  beauty  and  most  worthy  love, 
Greet  with  a  brother's  smile  the  distant  race 
That  people  Elam,  and  that  live  between 
Euphrates  and  the  Tigris.     They  in  turn 
Stretch  to  the  dark-brow'd  Ethiop  friendly  arms. 
And  hail  him  offspring  of  a  common  sire. 
So,  as  the  prophet  sung,  all  fearless  now 
The  lambkin  riots  with  the  wolf,  and  lays 


ADVENT.  21 

Its  harmless  head  upon  his  shaggy  hide. 

The  monarch  lion,  and  the  princely  pard 

Bend  their  submissive  necks  to  flowery  bands, 

And  infants  lead  them.     E'en  the  venom'd  asp 

And  irritable  adder  lose  their  stings, 

And  dally  with  the  fledgeling,  or  entice 

With  uninjurious  charms  the  parent  bird 

To  stoop  his  gilded  whig,  and  give  his  plumes 

To  the  fond  greeting  of  their  forky  tongues. 

Old  Earth  looks  young  once  more,  and  hopes  again 

The  favour  of  her  Sovereign  and  her  Lord, 

And  the  sweet  coming  of  that  golden  reign 

That  reinstates  her  into  former  bliss, 

The  forfeit  of  the  fall. 

Ithiel. 

Oh,  nobly  done  ! 
And  blest  art  thou  that  makest  peace  on  earth, 
And  with  good  title  named  a  child  of  God 
And  heritor  of  praise. 

But  see,  the  night 
Comes  on  apace,  with  twilight  deepening  round 
And  gentle  dews  descending,  while  the  Day, 
Careering  king  !  drives  swift  adown  the  steep 


22  ADVENT. 

Of  the  enamelPd  west  his  flashing  car. 
Brief  must  I  be ;  once  more  I  need  thine  aid, 
And  once  again  thy  ministry  I  ask 
For  a  more  dreadful  and  more  hard  a  task. 

Adiel. 
Let  me  but  hear,  and  willingly  my  feet 
Shall  hasten  wheresoe'er  thou  bidd'st  me  go, 
Impatient  of  delay. 

Ithiel. 

Give  hearing  then 
To  what  I  tell  thee.     O'er  these  neighb'ring  hills, 
Hidden  'mid  dark  grown  thickets,  is  a  cave 
By  demons  haunted  and  by  wizards  held, 
And  guarded  by  the  subtleties  and  charms 
Of  vile  enchanters  and  accursed  dames 
That  with  familiar  spirits  have  discourse. 
There  too  such  shapes  from  hell's  hot  holds  as 

come 
Do  oft  resort; — there  swarm  the  vampire  brood 
That  prey  on  feeble  man — all  crimes  are  there ; 
'Tis  hell's  own  gathering-place  and  rendezvous. 
And  there  they  riot  all  the  livelong  night, 


ADVENT.  'J3 

With  rites  obscene  defiling  hours  of  dark, 
And  shaming  starlight  with  their  vile  employ. 
All  blood-stain'd  is  the  den,  for  often  there 
The  wand'rer  comes,  by  phantoms  led  astray  — 
Oh  never  more  to  leave  the  horrid  hall, 
(Save  his  poor  spirit,  chased  by  them  to  hell, 
Escape  to  harder  doom  ; — or  heavenly  wings 
Bear  his  pure  soul  from  hands  that  can  but  kill, 
And  after  that  have  naught  that  they  can  do :) 
Tempted  he  enters  in,  but  knows  not  why. 
There  Hecat'  holds  her  reign,  and  all  around 
The  walls  are  garnish'd  with  infernal  tools, 
Scourges  and  thongs,  and  skulls  and  bony  piles 
And  implements  of  magic:  while  for  light 
A  blood-red  glare  the  presence  dark  illumes, 
And  casts  its  fearful  glow  on  forms  accurst  — 
So  awful,  that  e'en  spirits  pure  and  blest, 
And  souls  unfallen,  well  might  quake  to  see  ! 

Adiel. 

[In  amazement.] 
And  what  must  I  do  there  ? 


24  ADVENT. 

Ithiel. 

Be  not  dismay'd, 
For  Virtue  and  thy  God  shall  with  thee  be ; 
And  fear  not  them,  for  they  themselves  will  fear ; 
And  more  will  quake  at  that  bright  face  of  thine 
Than  could  an  angel  at  all  hell  let  loose. 
Hie  thither  then,  and  with  commanding  word 
Disperse  them,  for  they  gather  even  now 
Around  their  queen  ;  and  'tis  not  meet  that  they, 
At  this  so  hallow'd  and  so  blest  a  time, 
Should  sport  their  hellish  power,  or  harm  the  ones 
For  whom  our  blessed  Monarch  bears  such  love, 
And  stoops  so  low. 

Adiel. 

All  angel  as  I  am, 
And  maiPd  with  virtue's  holy  armour  on, 
Scarce  do  I  dare  to  venture  where  they  haunt, 
Or  draw  the  air  they  breathe. 

Ithiel. 

Thy  surety  be 
In  Heav'n  and  thy  chaste  soul.     '  Tis  said  that  e'en 
A  mortal  virgin,  if  she  pure  hath  lived, 


ADVENT.  Vi.r) 

Hath  such  ethereal  armour,  that  no  power 

Or  charm  of  demon's  or  enchanter's  art 

Can  mar  her  maiden  beauty,  or  despoil 

The  casket  of  her  bright  virginity  ; 

And  that  if  such  but  part  her  lips  to  speak 

And  bid  them  gone,  that  moment  they  must  fly. 

But  thou,  fair  Adiel,  an  angel  form, 

Child  of  the  skies  and  stainless  as  divine, 

May'st  wholly  rule  them,  and  may'st  drive  to  hell 

Or  hold  them  spell-bound  in  their  haunt,  at  will. 

Adiel. 

Thy  words  have  arm'd  me,  Ithiel ;  and  no  more 
My  tongue  shall  question  what  thy  will  ordains : 
Gladly  I  go,  and  joy  to  disappoint 
Their  curs'd  designs. 

Ithiel. 

And  further,  if  thou  see>t 
Aught  that  requires  thine  interposing  aid, 
Or  needs  thy  service,  thou  art  free  till  morn 
To  do  whate'er  thou  choosest,  and  where'er 
Duty  may  lead  thee,  readily  to  go. 
3 


26 


ADVENT. 


But  be  thou  early  at  the  humble  door 

Where  ere  the  morn  our  Lord  shall  cradled  be, 

Adiel. 

I  go,  bright  seraph,  and  thy  hest  obey, 
And  arm'd  with  virtue's  panoply  divine, 
Bold  will  I  meet,  as  Michael  did  of  yore, 
The  bravest  of  the  heav'n-defying  throng. 
Peace  with  thee  be ! 

Ithiel. 

Our  God  be  with  thee  too, 
x\nd  fear  no  power  less  mighty  than  his  own. 

[Adiel  departs. 
And  now  I  must  away  as  duty  bids, 
That  all  things  may  be  order'd  and  prepared 
For  his  august  approach  and  advent  near. 
Soon  shall  I  come  glad  legate  of  the  skies, 
To  warn  the  shepherds  of  His  high  estate 
Who  condescends  this  night  to  dwell  with  men, 
And  lays  his  awful  head  to  peaceful  rest 
In  the  poor  crib  where  feeds  the  lab'ring  ox, 
Though  lull'd  by  whisp'ring  angels  to  his  sleep, 
And  watch'd  by  flaming  seraphs  marshall'd  near. 


ADVENT.  21 


Scene  changes.  A  cave  garnished  with  magical 
emblems  and  uncouth  devices.  Skulls  and  bones 
scattered  about,  and  a  fire  of  peculiar  appear- 
ance burning  in  the  centre.  Hecate  discovered 
on  an  elevation.  Enter  a  troop  of  fiends.  As 
they  approach  Hecate  sings. 

Hecate. 

Welcome  to  my  dismal  den, 
Sons  of  demons  !  foes  of  men  ! 
Glad  I  see  you  at  my  call 
Thronging  to  my  hellish  hall, 
And  in  works  of  fiendish  might 
Ready  to  improve  the  night. 
Tell  me  whence  ye  come,  and  how 
Ye  have  spent  the  time  till  now. 

Chorus  of  Fiends. 

We  have  sported  vengeance  well ! 
And  with  all  the  arts  of  hell 
Have  been  torturing  and  trying 
All  the  living,  all  the  dying. 


28  ADVENT. 

First  Fiend. 
Fire  has  ravaged  many  a  town  — 
Pain  has  crept  'neath  many  a  crown  — 
Murder  has  been  busy  nightly, 
Darkness  help'd  his  work  unsightly  — 
Famine,  Pestilence,  and  Wrath, 
With  all  evils  in  their  path, 
Have  been  free  their  terrors  throwing 
While  fierce  Tempest  has  been  blowing. 


Chorus. 
So  we've  done,  terrific  queen, 
Since  your  horrid  hall  we've  seen : 
Some  with  torment  withering  fast, 
Some  with  slow  consuming  blast, 
Some  with  poisons  sharp  and  fell, 
Some  with  arts  new  brought  from  hell ; 
But  each  one  with  enmity 
To  mankind,  and  faith  to  thee. 

Hecate. 

Ye  have  well  perform'd  your  part, 
Practised  in  infernal  art ; 


ADVENT.  2fJ 


And  ye  seem  all  true  to  be, 
Coming  thus  right  speedily 
To  await  my  further  will, 
And  my  mandates  to  fulfil. 
Dread  they  are  !  a  mighty  task 
Now  from  one  and  ah  I  ask :  — 
But  ere  this  ye  hear  from  me 
I  must  test  your  fealty. 


Chorus. 

Queen  of  fiends,  we  swear  to  thee 
By  thy  name  of  Hecate  ; 
By  thy  most  unholy  power ; 
By  the  midnight's  charmed  hour ; 
By  our  dismal  bony  badge 
Wrested  from  the  sarcophage  : 
By  the  horrid  and  the  dread  ; 
By  hell-flames  of  lurid  red  ; 
By  all  cursed  things  —  that  we 
Will  be  faithful  unto  thee, 
And  obedient  to  fulfil 
Thine  infernal  wish  and  will. 
3* 


30 


ADVENT. 


Hecate. 
I  your  sworn  allegiance  take  — 
Swear  it  by  the  Stygian  lake  ! 

Chorus. 
By  the  fiery  Styx  we  swear, 

And  by  Cocytus'  burning  water ; 
By  the  fiends  that  haunt  the  air ; 

By  thyself,  hell's  mighty  daughter ; 
By  the  stream  that  nine  times  winding 

Round  the  dismal  realm  doth  go, 
And  by  all  that  can  be  binding 

In  the  burning  caves  below  — 
That  we  faithful  are,  and  never 
From  our  fealty  will  sever. 

Hecate. 

List  then,  ye  fiends  !  the  fealty  ye  vow 
This  dreaded  night  shall  test.    No  sport  of  pow'r. 
No  charm,  no  dance,  no  dirge  of  damned  souls, 
No  show  of  subtle  magic  —  naught  that  gives 
Delight  or  pleasure  to  such  hearts  as  ours 
Has  calPd  you  hither  now.     Ye  come,  alas  ! 


i 


ADVENT.  31 

Your  own  tremendous  doom  to  ratify, 

And  seal  the  vengeance  that  must  blast  ye  soon. 

Long  have  we  been  at  large,  and  long  have  work'd 

On  man's  unhappy  race  unnumber'd  ills, 

Accountable  to  none,  and  unrestrain'd 

By  the  high  hand  which  fashion'd  us  at  first, 

And  which  we  spurn'd  tyrannic.     Far  and  free, 

And  flushed  with  fiendish  joy,  our  hosts  have  roam'd 

O'er  the  scathed  world,  like  Egypt's  locust  pest, 

Blasting  each  herb,  each  fruit  and  pleasant  flower, 

And  bearing  blackness  on  our  blighting  wings. 

Chorus. 

Ha,  ha  !  Ha,  ha  !  we've  sported  well ! 
Such  the  triumph  that  we  tell — 
Be  his  vengeance  what  it  may, 
Scarce  his  bolted  wrath  shall  pay 
For  the  terrors  we  have  hurl'd 
O'er  his  misbegotten  world  ! 

Hecate. 

Ha,  ha !  Ha,  ha  !  his  red  right  hand 
Is  arm'd  with  flames  to  blast  us, 


32  ADVENT. 

And  burning  seraphs  have  command 
Down  to  hell's  gulfs  to  cast  us  :  — 
But  ha !  we'll  laugh  'midst  mortal  howling, 
We'll  light  with  smiles  the  dismal  scowling, 
We'll  shout  'mid  groans,  to  think  how  well 
We've  earn'd  his  deepest,  hottest  hell ! 
And  we  will  joy  to  think  we've  wrought 

What  e'en  his  all-devouring  fire 
Can  ne'er  avenge,  though  fully  fraught 

With  his  thunderbolted  ire  ! 
Ha  !  fiends  —  his  hell  is  but  a  heaven. 

Since  to  drive  us  further  still 
From  his  hated  throne  'tis  given 

Chorus. 

— So  we'd  rather  far  be  driven, 
Than  be  servants  to  his  will. 

Hecate. 

List  then  once  more,  nor  thus  with  futile  yell 
Break  in  upon  my  dread  discourse  again  ! 
Stifle  your  useless  rage,  nor  waste  the  time 
In  empty  leers,  and  hollow  outcries  raised 
In  puny  scorning  of  a  power  ye  fear. 


ADVENT.  33 

We  have  no  time  for  weak  defiance  now  ; 
Our  triumph-hours  are  o'er ;  for  know,  ye  fiends, 
At  the  mid  watch  of  night  our  reign  is  done  ! 
Our  dark  enchantments  save  not.    Then  will  come 
Troops  of  arm'd  angels,  with  hot  weaponry 
To  drive  us  to  our  doleful  prison-house, 
And  bind  us  howling  there. 

[They  start  in  terror. 

Nay,  menace  not, 
Nor  rise  as  wont  to  orgies  strong  no  more  : 
Stir  not  the  mystic  fire  ;  its  embers  now 
Are  like  th-e  incense  of  rebellious  Core, 
That  brought  no  help  from  hell,  but  anger'd  heaven. 
Give  o'er  your  spells  to-night !    No  whispers  here 
Of  charm  or  mutter'd  magic,  can  avail 
When  God's  own  thunders  are  abroad  without : 
So  tamely  wait  your  chains. 

Chorus. 

Nay,  curst  be  he  who  reigns  ! 
If  yield  we  must  — 

Hecate. 

Silence  !  ye  are  but  dust  — 


34  ADVENT. 

And  soon  like  dust  must  trodden  be  beneath 
The   Conqueror's  bruising  heel.     This  night  he 

comes ; 
His  burning  axle  now  is  on  its  way;  — 
And  girt  with  armies  bright,  he  comes  a  King, 
Revisiting  his  long  disturb'd  domains, 
And  purging  from  the  world  such  pests  as  we. 
Long  time  we  must  be  bound,  and  then  perchance 
Loosed  for  a  season,  but  with  weaken'd  might, 
And  no  more  suffer'd  to  afflict  so  free, 
Or  to  such  issues,  children  he  hath  bought 
With  price  as  wondrous  as  to  us  'tis  dire. 

Chorus. 

Dire  !  dire  indeed !  we  weep,  we  wail ! 
But  his  fiery-flooded  hail 
Burns  not  as  his  triumph  stings ; 
Nor  scathes  our  air-infecting  wings 
With  a  torture  half  so  dread, 
As  on  his  own  Almighty  head 
And  on  his  human  sons  we'd  throw, 
Might  we  'scape  our  hold  below, 
And  scale  the  crystal  barrier's  height 
That  bars  with  beams  of  living  light 


ADVENT.  85 

Those  mockers  of  our  curs'd  estate  — 
The  fields,  tho  climes,  the  homes  we  hate. 

Hecate. 

Oh  doubly  ruin'd,  wretched  fate  ! 

Chorus. 

Where,  where  shall  we  appear 
When  ope  the  yawning  caverns  wide  — 
When  falls  the  fury  we've  defied, 

And  we  the  thunders  hear 
That  cast  us  from  those  homes  at  first ! 
Oh  wThere.  when  clouds  of  vengeance  burst, 
That  imaged  forth  Jehovah's  frown  — 
And  comes  the  flame-clad  army  down 
To  chain  us  tame  though  frantic  there 
Where  gnaw  the  furies  — 

Hecate. 

—  And  Despair 
Howls  through  the  black  envenonrd  air. 

But  cease  your  wail  !  No  more 
Your  loss  deplore, 


36  ADVENT. 

Nor  quake  with  coward  fear  — 
Despair,  and  hear. 

Chorus. 
So  ever  must  we  yield  when  thou  art  near. 

Hecate. 

Then  smother  quick  your  rage.     A  stubborn  fate 

Decrees  it.     It  must  be  ;  and  we  must  bend 

To  the  fell  vengeance  of  a  power  defied. 

But  then  why  idle  now  ?     Why  waste  in  words 

The  hours  we  might  employ  in  mighty  works, 

In  deeds  that  shall  outyell  our  falling  groans, 

And  like  our  torment  smoke  eternally. 

Great  things  I  purpose,  which  at  least  shall  show 

Our  spite  how  deep,  our  hatred  how  sincere. 

But  first,  a  task  less  hideous  and  less  hard 

To  Somnus  I  commit.     Go,  sleepy  god, 

And  with  oblivious  Lethe  sprinkle  o'er 

The  palaces  of  kings,  the  huts  of  swains, 

And  every  roof  that  houses  breathing  men 

Through  all  this  land  of  Jewry  far  and  near. 

Go,  too,  to  those  who  watch  on  lone  patrol 

The  streets  of  cities,  and  to  those  who  keep 


ADVENT.  37 

Their  flocks  beneath  the  starlight ;  and  to  these 
Go  first,  as  far  most  like  to  witness  that 
Which  by  precautions  such  as  these,  we  keep 
From  admiration  of  terrestrial  eyes 
—  The  festive  entry  of  Earth's  conquering  king. 
For  though  he  come  in  clouds  of  glory  down 
And  angels  page  his  pathway  to  the  earth, 
So  shall  we  make  spectatorless  the  show 
And  pageant  of  his  triumph,  and  abstract 
From  the  outwitted  God,  his  subjects'  gaze. 
But  wherefore  tarry  ?     Go  thou  stupid  fiend  — 

[Somnus  departs.] 
And  list  ye  others  to  my  high  behests, 
And  still  more  spiteful  plans. 

First  Fiend. 

But  hark  !  what  sounds  ! 
And  who  is  this  advancing  ! 

Second  Fiend. 
They  come,  they  come,  I  saw  them  then  — 

Another. 

Their  flaming  swords  are  glancing  ! 
4 


oo  advent. 

Hecate* 
List !  nay,  away  !  Before  our  time 
They  drive  us  to  the  hapless  clime  — 
Adiel  enters  as  they  attempt  to  fly,  and  prevents 
them. 

Adiel. 
Hence  hateful  throng  !  And  know  the  hour  is  near 
Of  your  o'erwhelming  doom  :  But  answer  first, 
—  Held  spell-bound  till  ye  tell  me  —  whither  fled 
That  dastard  demon  who  at  my  approach 
Left  your  dark  cabin  ?     Answer  me  at  once, 
Else  with  these  snaky  thongs  I  scourge  you  well. 

Chorus. 

To  the  shepherds  who  their  sheep 
On  the  lonely  hill-tops  keep 
Hath  the  drowsy  demon  sped, 
To  besprinkle  every  head 
With  the  charmed  Lethean  wave 
Which  the  shores  of  hell  doth  lave. 

Adiel. 

Fiends,  give  me  certain  answer  !   Think  not  thus 
My  searching  to  evade. 


i 


advent.  sv 

Hecate. 

We  told  thee  true  ! 

Adiel. 
Oh  breeder  of  all  evil,  did  the  truth 
E'er  come  from  lips  defiled  and  black  as  thine  ? 

Hecate. 

—  Or  a  more  senseless  question  e'er  from  thine  ! 

Adiel. 
Peace  !  I  will  hold  no  parley  with  your  crew : 
Say,  whither  went  your  black-wing'd  messenger  ? 

Hecate. 

Sure,  I  had  thought  such  bright-plumed  shapes  as 
thou 

Had  known  without  our  aid  such  things  as  this ! 

Adiel. 
It  were  not  well  to  tempt  me.     Speak  at  once  ; 
Ye  know  the  penalty. 

Hecate. 

[To  the  fiends.] 
Speak  then,  ye  must. 


40  ADVENT. 

Chorus. 
He  hath  gone  to  visit  them 
Who  in  lonely  Bethlehem 
Keep  their  flocks  'neath  starry  light, 
Singing  all  the  livelong  night. 

Adiel. 
Hence  then,  begone  !     No  more  from  your  foul 
mouths. 


Hecate. 


Ha,  ha! 


Adiel. 
Laugh  on  !  but  think  not  always  thus 
Just  vengeance  to  escape  so  easily. 

Chorus. 
Ha,  ha !  Ha,  ha!  ere  morrow's  dawn 
What  though  hell  await  — 

Adiel. 

Begone ! 
{They  disappear  with  infernal  laughter  J] 
What  horrid  sounds  !  and  what  a  dismal  den  ! 
Such  sights  oh  may  I  never  see  again. 


ADVENT.  41 

Scene  changes.  A  wild  place  near  the  cave.  Enter 
Reuel,  apparently  much  bewildered ;  his  crook 
and  a  lamb  in  his  arms.  He  approaches  the 
mouth  of  the  cave.  As  the  light  falls  on  him, 
he  starts  back  affrighted.  Adiel  comes  out  in 
the  form  of  a  beautiful  female. 

Reuel. 

Tell  me  fair  lady,  or  fair  angel  else 

—  All  lonely,  lost  and  wandering  as  I  be  — 

Which  way  1  should  prefer  to  lead  me  hence 

Towards  Bethlehem,  my  father's  home  and  mine. 

Seeking  a  straying  lamb,  I  far  have  strayed, 

And  overtaken  by  the  moonless  night 

Know  not  the  way  which  leads  me  to  my  cot 

From  the  deceitful  path  that  tempts  my  feet 

To  danger,  or  to  distance  dangerous  too. 

Adiel. 
Fear  not  good  shepherd.  I  will  guide  thee  hence, 
Myself  just  starting  for  the  hills  which  thou 
Hast  named  thy  home.  Nor  are  they  far  from  here, 
Though  true,  the  way  is  most  obscure,  and  thou 
No  doubt  by  fiendish  leading  hast  been  brought 
To  this  foul  spot,  but  little  known  I  ween 
4* 


42  ADVENT. 

To  eyes  so  simple  and  so  pure  as  thine. 

Reuel. 

Fiendish  indeed  !  All  hell  seems  out  to-night, 
And  the  eharm'd  air  is  full.     As  here  I  passed 
I  heard  them  mocking  at  my  wilderment, 
And  when  their  hollow  jeers  had  died  away 
And  left  me  doubly  maz'd,  —  then,  worse  than  all 
Came  their  wild  laughter  on  the  loaded  breeze  — 
As  if  the  spirits  of  the  damn'd  let  loose 
Were  all  afloat  to  chase,  and  mock  at  me 
While  the   chill  night-wind   cools  their    burning 
pains. 

Adiel. 
Thou'st  wander'd  to  a  dreary  place  good  swain, 
And  well  for  thee  that  here  I  chanc'd  to  turn  ! 
Not  many  who  have  heard  what  thou  hast  heard 
Have  e'er  escaped  to  tell  their  misery. 
But  I'm  thy  guide  ;  the  midnight  hastes,  and  we 
Ere  midnight  must  in  David's  city  be. 

Scene  changes.  An  apartment  in  Jerusalem.  Eli- 
zabeth discovered  sitting  by  a  couch  on  which 
is  reposing  the  infant  John.     Zacharias  enters. 


ADVENT, 


43 


Zacharias. 

How  fares  our  boy  ? 

Elizabeth. 

Come  see  him  where  he  sleeps — 
Could  aught  but  health  such  ruddiness  impart 
To  his  full  cheek  ?   How  soft  and  fresh  he  breathes ! 
Look,  he  is  dreaming  !     Visions  sure  of  joy 
Are  gladdening  his  rest ;  and  ah,  who  knows 
But  waiting  angels  do  converse  in  sleep 
With  babes  like  this  ! 

Zacharias. 

So  pure  is  infancy, 
That  well  I  ween  if  angel-lips  at  all 
In  their  kind  love  converse  with  fallen  men, 
'Tis  when  as  yet  no  sin  hath  stain'd  their  souls, 
And  when  as  now,  they  scarcely  wear  the  form 
Of  Adam's  erring  sons. 

Elizabeth. 

'Tis  when  as  now 
A  cherub  might  mistake  our  rosy  boy 
For  a  reposing  mate  ! 


44  ADVENT. 

Zacharias. 

True  he  is  fair  — 
And  smiles  in  sleep  as  beautiful  as  erst 
Young  Moses  did  within  his  bulrush  car, 
When  Egypt's  princess  rapt  him  from  the  Nile 
And  blush'd  to  see  her  own  sweet  bloom  outvied. 

Elizabeth. 

Oh  may  he  prove  like  that  young  Moses  too 
Forerunner  of  a  brighter  e'en  than  he, 
And  herald  of  a  Saviour  that  shall  lead 
The  wandering  people  to  eternal  rest. 

Zacharias. 

Such  shall  he  surely  be,  for  so  indeed 
The  angel  that  announced  him  promised  us. 
And  blessed  be  the  Lord  of  Israel 
Who  thus  hath  visited  our  captive  tribes 
And  raised  a  mighty  horn  of  sure  defence 
From  David's  royal  line.     And  thou  my  child 
The  prophet  of  the  Highest  shall  be  called  — 
To  go  before  his  face,  prepare  his  ways 
To  raise  the  valleys,  make  full  low  the  hills, 
And  bid  the  wilderness  and  desert  place 


ADVENT.  45 

Bud  forth  and  blossom  like  the  rose  to  be 
A  highway  for  his  feet.     Thy  herald  voice 
Shall  give  the  people  freedom  from  offence 
Through  the  kind  mercy  of  our  God,  whereby 
The  Dayspring  from  on  high  hath  beamed  afar 
To  light  the  nations  that  in  darkness  dwell 
And  us  lone  wanderers  through  this  vale  of  death. 

Elizabeth. 

Oh  'twTas  of  Him  the  prophet  spoke  of  yore  — 
The  voice  of  one  that  from  the  wilderness 
Comes  heralding  the  Lord.     Bright  pioneer  ! 
What  though  his  dwelling  in  the  wastes  shall  be  — 
On  Hermon's  dewy  top  or  Carmel  fair, 
Or  in  some  chilly  cave  of  Lebanon 
Where  roofs  of  shining  icicles  o'erhang, 
And  on  his  sleep  their  frozen  mists  distil  — 
Or  though  his  voice  be  heard  from  Amana  — 
His  meat  the  honey  shed  from  Shenir's  trees  — 
His  drink  of  mossy  fount,  or  running  brook 
From  rocks  rude-cloven  gushing ;  though  he  wear 
Nor  pall  of  tissued  gold,  nor  broider'd  robe  ; 
Though  his  rough  garment  from  the  beast  be  torn 
And  no  sweet  lawn  or  web  from  foreign  loom 


46  ADVENT. 

Enwrap  his  goodly  limbs — yet  hail  his  lot ! 
Thou  child  shalt  be  the  first  of  woman  born 
Mid  mortal  men ;  and  more  I  do  delight 
That  on  my  breast  I've  nursed  thee,  noble  boy, 
And  seen  thy  pouting  lips  draw  nurture  there 
Than  if  from  me  had  sprung  an  empire's  heir, 
And  I  with  prophet-ear  could  hear  afar 
A  royal  line  and  princes  call  me  mother. 

[Ithial  appears  to  them.'] 

Zacharias. 

But  look  !  with  awe  —  Oh,  Spirit  pure  and  fair  — 

Elizabeth. 
Ah,  no  !  with  awe  I  bend  — 

Ithiel. 

Nay,  fear  ye  not, 
But  hail,  thrice  favour'd  pair !  I  come  to  bid 
Your  speedy  presence  at  lone  Bethlehem, 
Where  ere  the  morn  your  happy  eyes  shall  see 
—  As  whilom  by  the  angel's  voice  foretold 
Your  Lord,  on  earth  the  blessed  virgin's  son. 

Zacharias. 

Thanks  radiant  stranger  for  the  welcome  word  ! 


ADVENT.  47 

And  not  with  fear,  yet  oh  with  reverent  awe, 
The  homage  that  thy  high  estate  demands 
We  yield  with  voice,  and  hearts  in  unison. 
Right  glad  will  we  obey  —  Oh  how  is  this 
That  e'er  mine  eyes  such  glory  should  behold 
As  throned  kings  and  prophets  were  denied  ! 

Ithiel. 

Haste  then  ;  with  reverent  worship  hail  your  King, 

The  Shiloh  promised  long  to  Israel  — 

And  speedy  be,  or  ere  it  is  too  late, 

For  even  now  the  night  doth  wane  apace 

And  I  to  other  office  must  away. 

[He  disappears.'] 

Elizabeth. 

[With  emotion.] 
And  who  this  shape  of  heav'n  ? 

Zacharias. 

An  angel  he. 
That  bids  us  haste  to  Bethlehem  ;  for  there 
Is  born  he  saith  — 

Elizabeth. 

—  I  heard  the  joyful  word  ! 


48  ADVENT. 

But  shall  I  more  admire  that  Christ  is  come 
Or  that  mine  eyes  have  angel  shapes  beheld  ! 
—  Yet  what  are  angels,  when  I  soon  shall  see 
Him  too,  that  rides  upon  the  cherubim  ! 
Joy  to  the  hour !    Right  gladly  will  I  go 
And  aye,  with  reverent  adoration  bow 
Where  our  sweet  hope  on  Mary's  breast  is  laid, 
And  heaven's  high  King  was  tenant  of  her  womb. 

Zacharias. 

Come  then,  nor  long  delay.     The  time  is  scant 
Though  full  our  joy,  and  we  have  far  to  go. 


Scene  changes.  A  lawn.  Shepherds  discovered 
at  rest,  and  Somnus  bending  over  them,  with  a 
green  bough  in  his  hand,  which  he  shakes  as 
he  sings. 

Somnus. 
Thus  with  branch  of  hellish  tree 
Charmed  with  magic  potency, 
I  besprinkle  all  your  eyes 
With  what  Lethe's  wTave  supplies. 


ADVENT.  49 

Sleep  ye  then,  nor  wake  till  morn 
Shall  the  rosy  east  adorn. 

[He  disappears.] 
Adiel  enters  mith  Reuel. 

Reuel. 

Ho  !  here  they  are  full  sure,  and  fast  asleep, 
I  left  them  to  bring  back  one  straying  lamb, 
And  find  them  losing  scores. 

Come,  rouse  ye  drones  ! 
Ho  here  !  awake  !  What  mean  ye  thus  at  rest ! 

Adiel. 
Soft,  Reuel,  they  are  spell-bound  ;  and  I  see 
The  fiend  that  led  thee  from  thy  path  astray 
Hath  played  his  potent  magic  on  these  swains, 
And  by  his  wizard  art  hath  drugg'd  their  souls 
With  herbs  from  Tartarus. 

Reuel. 

And  are  they  dead  ? 

Adiel. 

No,  but  in  sleep  unnatural  and  charmed : 
Thou  couldst  not  wake  them  shouldst  thou  call 
till  morn. 

5 


50  ADVENT. 

There  is  some  demon's  signet  on  their  eyes, 
And  chance  their  spirits  feel  the  poison  too. 

Reuel. 

I've  heard  it  said  these  sudden  swounds  do  come 
From  certain  herbs  that  blow  perchance  too  near; 
And  some  pretend  there  is  an  urchin  sprite 
That  lived  in  Eden  once,  and  has  e'en  now 
His  home  and  haunt  on  beds  of  asphodel, 
That  visits  oft  the  fays  of  other  flowers, 
And  makes  swTeet  wrooing  of  a  starry  night 
To  tiny  maids  that  sleep  on  daffodils 
And  in  the  virgin-lily  shelter  them. 
No  mortal  eye  can  spy  their  elfin  loves, 
Yet  these  are  they  that  ope  and  shut  the  flowers  ; 
And  often  when  they  would  abroad  to  dance 
In  pigmy  shape  beneath  the  smiling  moon, 
They  send  their  wizard  spouse  and  champion 
To  guard  away  each  human  foot  and  eye. 
'Tis  then  that  if  a  shepherd  be  too  near 
He  feels  strange  drowsiness,  and  swoons  away  ; 
For  in  their  eyes  he  pours  such  influence, 
And  in  their  nostrils  breathes  such  odours  too, 
As  will  anon  quite  steal  them  from  themselves 


ADVENT.  51 

And  in  oblivion  shadow  them  awhile. 
Perchance  'tis  only  this  that  chaineth  these  : 
But  I've  an  herb  that  can  unfetter  them. 

Adiel. 

Nay  Reuel,  they  have  stronger  shackels  on ; 
No  herb  can  loose  them  ;  but  there  is  a  name 
That  only  whisper'd  breaks  the  strongest  bonds, 
And  I  —  good   chance,    have  learn'd  the  potent 

word. 
And  will  annul  the  spell.     My  skill  shall  take 
The  scales  from  off  their  eyelids.     Hear  me  now, 
And  mark  what  I  enjoin  thee.     Dost  thou  hear  ! 

Reuel. 
I  hear,  and  will  obey  thee. 

Adiel. 

When  I  go, 
I'll  leave  these  swains  unspell-bound — but  asleep. 
Asleep,  I  say  —  but  only  in  such  drowse 
As  nature  gives  them  —  which  one  word  of  thine 
May  easily  dispel.     Dost  understand  ? 

Reuel. 

Ave,  and  remember  too. 


52  ADVENT. 

Adiel. 

So  speaking  then 
With  kind  good-morrow  to  the  slumberers, 
Awake  them  ;  bid  them  sleep  no  more  to-night, 
But  pass  what  resteth  of  its  starlit  hours 
In  innocent  rejoicings  and  in  songs. 
And  mark  the  hint  I  give  thee  —  He  who  rules 
The  wide  o'erstretching  firmament  and  lives 
In  light  unspeakable — amid  the  throng 
Of  flaming  seraphim,  above  all  height 
And  throned  in  glory,  nathless  hath  an  eye 
Of  love  on  such  as  thou  ;  and  with  more  joy 
Beholds  these  humble  swains,  than  tetrarchs  deckt 
In  gold  and  costly  purple,  and  may  yet 
If  ye  be  watchful,  yield  to  your  poor  eyes 
Surpassing  witness  of  his  dear  regard. 
For  this,  spend  not  all  night  in  idle  songs 
And  senseless  ditties  of  unworthy  love, 
But  partly  sing  his  praise  in  echoing  hymns, 
As  did  of  old  on  these  same  hills  I  ween 
The  youthful  shepherd  that  was  after  king. 
So  fare  thee  well  !  my  words  thy  heart  shall  cheer 
'Till  future  things  their  mystic  sense  shall  show. 

[Adiel  disappears.'] 


ADVENT.  53 

Reuel. 

Sure  I  have  had  a  more  than  mortal  guide  ! 

Some  goddess  doubtless  whom  the  heathen  praise. 

Or  rather,  I  bethink  me  —  liklier  one. 

Of  those  bright  spirits  that  obey  the  will 

Of  heaven's  blest  Sov'reign —  who  are  constant 

round 
The  servants  of  the  highest,  numberless 
As  those  that  seen  in  Dothan  cheer'd  the  eyes 
Of  the  despairing  servant  of  the  seer. 
An  angel  then  !  and  one  whose  words  foretell 
Some  strange  event  that  I  no  doubt  shall  see  ! 
Oh  wondrous  night,  that  seems  a  chequer'd  dream 
And  omens  something  that  I  long  to  know  ! 
But  soft !  let  me  perform  what  I  am  bid 
And  rouse  these  dreamers  that  enchanted  lie. 

[Calls.] 
Ho  here  !  awake,  what  ho  !  ye  drowsy  swains  ! 
[First  Shej)herd  awakes.] 
»Tis  wonderful  if  yonder  flock  be  full 
So  long  untended  by  your  lazy  crooks. 

Shepherd. 

Well  Reuel  !  you  have  found  us  sleeping,  true, 

But  how  'tis  so  I  wot  not.    I  believe 

5* 


54  ADVENT. 

That  none  are  lost  if  I  espy  aright 
Of  yonder  quiet  herd  —  but  all  are  safe. 
Belike  the  nipping  breeze  hath  chilled  us  through 
And  numb'd  our  senses  to  oblivion. 
But  let's  bestir,  and  rouse  these  others  too, 
Our  songs  shall  keep  us  from  such  fault  again. 

[Calls.] 
Good  morrow  Shepherds  !  Come,  no  longer  sleep, 
But  brush  the  heavy  slumber  from  your  eyes. 
[They  wake  confusedly.] 

Reuel. 
Well  swains,  I'm  safe  return'd  and  find  you  thus 
O'ercome  by  sleep,  and  tasting  sweet  repose, 
While  I,  forsooth,  with  labour  and  deep  search 
Have  scoured  the  valley  and  the  stony  hill, 
The  dell,  the  dark  ravine,  the  wilderness, 
And  all  in  patient  quest  of  this  poor  lamb, 
While  'tis  no  thanks  to  you  that  many  more 
Need  not  such  searching.     Careful  shepherds  ye  ! 

A  Shephekd. 
'Tis  passing  strange  !  We  must  have  been  asleep, 
And  yet  how  can  it  be  !  We  are  not  wont 
To  sleep  so  early,  or  to  sleep  at  all 


ADVENT.  55 

Upon  our  watch.     So  pardon  for  this  once 
Such  strange  remittance  of  our  faithful  care. 

First  Shepherd. 

Thou  know'st  no  watch  can  guard  'gainst  subtle 

sleep 
That  cometh  not  a  warrior  to  th'  assault, 
But  stealeth  like  a  coward  unawares, 
Or  like  the  vapours  of  a  sorceress'  bowl 
Charming  the  keepers  of  the  citadel, 
And  one  by  one  o'ermastering  all  within, 
Till  drowned  at  length  in  dull  unconsciousness 
The  stupid  inmates  yield  the  fortress  key 
And  wily  sleep  lets  all  her  army  in, 
Visions,  and  sights,  and  dreams. 

Reuel. 

Thou  sayest  well  — 
The  warrior  that  hath  slain  a  thousand  men 
Yields  up  to  sleep  ;  and  Samson  that  of  old 
Made  such  fell  havoc  with  th'  uncircumcis'd 
When  he  had  worn  out  love  with  Dalilah 
Sunk  in  her  trait'ress  arms  o'ercome  by  sleep, 
And  lost  his  sacred  locks — whose  ev'ry  hair 
But  for  this  sleep,  had  been  an  army  still. 


56  ADVENT. 

For  such  her  art,  she  wins  the  strongest  most, 
And  traps  the  most  secure  ;  and  oft  'tis  found 
That  watchfulness  grown  weary  of  itself 
Goes  out  in  dreaming  that  'tis  wakeful  still. 
So  there's  no  blame  to  you.     No  harm  is  done, 
And  I'll  not  mock  you  more.     But  yet  'tis  strange 
That  all  of  you  should  be  so  dull  at  once  ! 
—  What  hour  is  it  suppose  ye  ? 

First  Shepherd. 

It  must  be 
Nigh  to  the  middle  watch. 

Another. 

Nay,  not  so  late  — 
First  Shepherd. 

Then  we  have  longer  to  await  the  day. 

Reuel. 
But  come,  the  air  is  chill,  and  dark  the  night 
And  long  'twill  be  or  ere  the  cheering  moon 
Shall  rise  o'er  yonder  hill-top.     Rouse  ye  then 
And  let  us  to  our  singing. 

First  Shepherd. 

Well,  what  song — 
The  Lamb  astray,  or  joy  for  what  is  found  ? 


i 


ADVENT.  57 

ANOTHER. 

Nay,  but  our  old  night  cheering  chorus  — 

Reuel. 

What, 
The  Wakeful  Shepherds  ! 

Shepherd. 

Aye,  'tis  so  content. 

Reuel. 

And  so  befitting  you,  who've  waked  so  long 
And  wearily  ! 

First  Shepherd. 
I  thought  we  were  to  hear 
No  more  of  that !  You  told  us  so  at  least. 

Reuel. 

Forgive  me  !   It  was  meant  in  harmless  jest. 
I  thought  some  sport  would  suit  you. 

A  Shepherd. 

But  a  song 
Had  suited  better. 


58 


ADVENT. 


Reuel. 

Join  then  one  and  all, 
For  so  we'll  cheat  the  watches,  and  make  glad 
The  tedious  hours.     No  more  of  jest  or  laugh  — 
All  things  invite  our  singing.     Peaceful  sleep 
Our  fleecy  charges,  and  the  starlight»dim 
With  gentle  influence  calms  their  tranquil  rest 
And  gives  them  quiet  dreams.     Our  song  the  more 
Shall  lull  their  wakings,  and  with  magic  power 
Shall  cheer  us  too.    Come  then,  my  reed  is  tuned, 
And  joyfully  I  lead  the  merry  lay. 
The  Song. 
Lone  on  these  hills  our  wTatch  we  keep, 
And  guard  our  fleece-clad  sheep 
Till  the  balm  morning  break  — 
And  still  with  songs  of  cheer 
Charming  her  sulky  ear, 
Night's  echoes  wake. 
Chorus. 
So  pass  the  lagging  hours,  so  wanes  the  night 
Till  morn  appears  in  pearly  splendour  dight. 

And  kind  the  stars  above 
Glowing  with  tender  love 


ADVENT.  59 

With  us  keep  watch  'till  day. 
For  us  the  Pleiads  seven 
Shine  sentinels  of  luaven 

Till  shadows  flee  away. 
Chorus. 
Till  rising  bright  the  morning  star 
Rosy  and  ruddy  beams  afar. 

No  deadly  thing  is  here 
To  strike  our  hearts  with  fear 

Or  harm  the  flocks  we  keep, 
We  envy  not  the  great 
Preferring  to  their  state 

Our  fleecy  sheep. 

Chorus. 
So  happily  we'll  watch,  so  merry  wake 
Till  in  the  east  the  golden  day-spring  break. 

And  thus  with  songs  of  cheer 
Till  ruddy  dawn  draws  near 

Night's  drowse  we'll  wake  — 
Till  darkness  flies  afar, 
Till  beams  the  morning  star — 

And  that  blest  dawning  break. 


60  ADVENT. 

Chorus. 

Till  darkness  flieth,  and  the  day 
Darts  through  the  east  his  rosy  ray. 

First  Shepherd. 
How  liked  you  it  ? 

Reuel. 

As  ever  ;  'tis  my  favourite  ! 
[The  Shepherdesses  approach  with  Serah  bringing 
various  kinds  of  fruits. ~\ 

A  Shepherd. 

But  see,  our  sisters  come  !  and  with  them  too, 
Another  fav'rite,  Reuel ! 

Reuel. 

Aye,  I  see  — 
The  lovely  Shepherdess  ! 

[To  them.] 
Ye  come  full  well, 
Just  in  the  time  !  and  bringing  such  regale 
You  ne'er  will  be  unwelcomed  by  us  here. 

First  Shepherdess. 
Brothers,  we  come  to  join  you  in  your  songs  ; 
Not  without  presents,  but  like  Sheba's  queen 


ADVENT.  61 

Bringing  sweet  spices  and  delightful  fruits, 

The  cluster'J  grape,  pomegranates  cased  in  gold 

And  pulpy  figs  —  a  banquet  fit  for  kings  ! 

Seraii. 

And  we  propose  that  when  the  gladsome  moon 

Begins  to  lighten  up  this  rural  scene, 

—  As  soon  she  must,  for  even  now  her  beams 

Behind  yon  hill  illuminate  the  sky  — 

We  join  in  sportive  pastime,  and  gay  dance 

O'er  the  soft  lawn. 

Reuel. 

That  we  shall  like  full  well. 
And  lovely  Serah,  if  thou  wilt,  again 
We'll  tread  the  tripping  measure  which  we  last 
Together  danced,  when  Autumn's  heavy  sheaves 
Stored  in  the  garner,  gave  us  harvest-home. 

A  Shepherdess. 

But  of  our  feast  take  first. 

Reuel. 

Most  willingly  ! 
Seraii. 
Come  then,  we  spread  it  on  the  grass. 

6 


C2  ADVENT. 

A  Shepherd. 

Good  luck  ! 
Worth  bringing  are  such  viands ;  gather  round, 
We  want  no  better  tables  than  the  ground. 

Scene  changes.     A  roadside.     The  Wise  Men  ap- 
proach, gazing  steadfastly  on  the  moving  star. 

Omar. 

Still  doth  yon  planet  beckon  us  along 
Slow  moving,  resting  not,  but  shining  mild 
Like  some  divinity  embodied  there, 
To  lead  us  to  his  princely  feet,  who  now 
Is  born  in  Jewry,  Lord  of  all  the  earth. 
Yet  why  in  such  a  corner  of  the  world 
Or  why  in  Bethlehem  doth  he  appear, 
If  yet  to  shine  of  ev'ry  land  the  Sun 
And  Conqueror  of  nations  mightier  far ! 
Is  this  fit  nurs'ry  for  a  prince  ?   Is  this 
The  fitting  climate  for  such  royal  growth  ! 
Is  this  the  land  to  nurture  one  wTho  claims 
The  fealty  of  all  mankind,  and  comes 
O'er  the  whole  earth  high  autocrat  to  reign 
And  rightful  sov'reign  of  remotest  isles  ! 
Oh,  my  sage  brothers,  think  you  this  can  be  ! 


ADVENT.  68 

Deep  I  surmise  such  birth  were  better  sought 
In  haughty  Cesar's  proud  imperial  home, 
In  rich  Athene,  or  our  own  bright  East 
Amid  the  od'rous  groves  and  spicy  vales 
Of  Elam  or  of  Ind.     Would  this  not  seem 
More  worthy  such  a  King,  more  likely  too  ? 
How  think  ye  fellow-sages,  have  we  come 
On  bootless  errand  —  or  do  ye  suppose 
'Tis  yet  full  time  for  his  august  approach 
Whose  glory  we  have  come  so  far  to  see  ? 

A  Sage. 
Most  surely  I  believe  the  time  has  come 
Sage  father,  for  so  all  the  world  avers. 
So  says  tradition,  so  our  prophets  old, 
So  testifies  the  Sybil,  so  divines 
The  Delphian  priestess  —  so  have  we  believed  : 
And  so  yon  moving  star  more  sure  than  all 
Doth  well  approve. 

Another. 

And  canst  thou  doubt  the  sign  ! 
Thou  knowest  it  hath  been  full  long  foretold 
From  Jacob  that  a  new-born  Star  should  rise, 
And  a  bright  glory  out  of  Israel. 


64  ADVENT. 

Oft  since  we  saw  this  heavenly  light  appear, 

I've  heard,  sage  father,  from  thy  lips  divine 

How  that  on  Peor's  top,  to  Beor's  son 

Appalled  and  quaking,  shone  a  vision  dread 

What  time  a  spirit  o'er  his  eyelids  past 

And  came  a  trance  —  although  he  did  not  sleep  — 

So  that  the  sinews  of  his  lips  did  quiver 

And  his  dark  locks  stood  upright  —  while  a  voice 

Amid  the  stillness  that  was  shadowy  round 

Spoke  in  dark  whispers  to  his  prophet  soul 

The  warning  that  unheard  by  other  ears 

Told  of  the  rising  of  this  meteor  pale  — 

And  the  far  prospect  of  the  star  we  see 

Yet  idly  question  while  we  feel  its  rays. 

First  Sage. 

And  doubtless  then  the  seer's  unveiled  eyes 
Saw  'mid  that  darkness  that  was  awful  round 
The  distant  sparkling  of  this  same  bright  star, 
That  now  at  length  in  full  perfected  time 
Hath  dawned  on  us. 

Omar. 

I  own  thy  reasons  just, 
Rememb'ring  too  what  words  the  wizards  spoke 


ADVENT.  (>«r> 

Whom  haughty  Herod  summoned  at  his  call ; 
"Thou  Bethlehem  art  not  the  least  among 
Judean  princes,  for  from  thee  shall  spring 
A  ruler  of  my  people  Israel." 
But  still  I  marvel  that  a  Prince  so  high, 
So  oft  predicted,  and  so  long  desired, 
Hath  but  this  lowly  land  his  realm  at  last. 

First  Sage. 

Call  it  not  lowly,  for  though  wasted  now 
Ev 'n  in  its  ruin  is  a  charm  for  me, 
And  in  its  hoary  age  a  grandeur  too. 
Here  every  spot  is  sacred  :  every  step 
We  reckless  take,  by  heroes  hath  been  trod, 
By  poets,  sages,  men  of  old  renown, 
And  hath  its  tale,  its  fable,  or  its  lay. 
Here  once  was  thron'd  all-glorious  Solomon 
Mid  riches  that  bright  Ophir  sent  from  far, 
And  deck'd  with  robes  of  Tyre's  unrivall'd  dye. 
Here  Huram's  navies  brought  their  wealth  to  him, 
And  many  a  year  his  ships  from  Tarsish  came 
With  tribute  for  the  king  of  Israel, 
Cedars,  and  gold,  and  shining  ivory, 
Birds  of  bright  rainbow  plumage,  silver  urns, 
6* 


66  ADVENT. 

And  algum-wood  for  harps  and  psalteries. 
There  come  no  more  such  gifts  as  Huram  gave  ! 
Here  Sheba's  queen  with  homage  sought  him  too, 
Nor  thought  her  coming  to  a  lowly  land 
When  writh  her  train,  her  gems  and  spicery, 
And  her  own  beauty  as  her  peerless  dower, 
She  paid  him  worship  as  the  King  of  kings. 
Oh,  'tis  a  land  of  kings  —  of  poets,  seers, 
Wise  men  and  holy,  priests  and  prophets  sage, 
And  the  best  home  of  heav'nly  poesy, 
Since  here  the  poet  was  the  monarch  too. 
A  good  old  land  !  a  land  of  lore  and  song ! 
A  land  most  famous  in  the  olden  time  — 
A  land  where  ev'ry  worn-out  furrow  tells 
They  were  a  hero  race  that  broke  it  first. 
Think  what  it  once  has  been,  and  in  decay 
Mark  yet  the  grandeur  of  the  crumbled  pile  — 
Then  rev'rence  glory  fled,  and  weep  that  thus 
Earth's  goodliest,  noblest,  brightest  —  dies  at  last. 

Another. 

And  e'en  though  Jewry  were  a  lowly  land, 
And  this  his  home  thrice  lowly  —  yet  for  us 
Who  beckoned  hitherward  by  heavenly  signs, 


ADVENT.  67 

And  led  as  never  men  were  led  before, 
Have  wandered  weary  from  the  outskirt  East 
Now  to  begin  our  errand  to  mistrust, 
Would  seem  at  least  too  tardy  to  be  wise. 

Omar. 

So  seems  it ;  and  perplexed  I  question  much 
Our  knowledge  of  our  own  adventure  here, 
And  think  perchance  we  may  have  erred  somewhat 
In  his  mysterious  office  whom  we  seek. 
Oh  may  that  blessed  power  our  minds  illume 
Whose  heavenly  call  hath  beckoned  us  afar  ! 

First  Sage. 

But  look  !  the  wondrous  light  is  settling  now  — 
Perchance  to  mark  the  princely  roof  where  he 
This  royal  babe  in  regal  state  is  laid. 

Omar. 
Yes !  let  us  haste.     We  must  be  near  his  home. 
And  look  once  more  ;  a  fairer  light  draws  near 
In  gait  and  form  a  God  ! 

[Ithiel  is  seen  ajjproaching .] 


68  ADVENT. 

First  Sage. 

I  see  !  perchance 
'Tis  Hermes  the  wing'd  messenger  of  Jove 
Whom  Greeks  adore. 

Omar. 
Ah  no,  more  fair  than  he  ! 
For  look  what  glory  in  his  wings  resides, 
What  brightness  in  his  golden-threaded  locks, 
With  what  divinity  he  moves  along  — 
More  fair  than  all  the  gods  of  Greece  !  But  soft. 
He  comes  —  receive  him  with  due  reverence,  and 
kneel. 

Ithiel  enters, and  the  Sages  fall  prostrate  before  him. 

Ithiel. 

Rise  blessed  Sages,  kneel  not  unto  me, 
Myself  a  creature  and  a  servant  too 
Scarce  nobler  than  yourselves  —  a  messenger 
Of  Him  wiio  makes  the  winds  his  angels  oft, 
And  flaming  fire  his  minister  to  be. 

Omar. 
Bright  spirit,  how  shall  we  receive  thee  then  ! 


ADVENT.  69 

How  pay  thee  homage  due  !  Thy  radiance  pure 
Strikes  us  with  awe  !  how  can  we  else  than  kneel  ? 

Ithiel. 
I  bid  you  kneel  no  longer.     Rise,  or  bow 
To  God  alone  ! 

Omar. 

We  rise  then  at  thy  will. 
But  think  not  that  in  deference  we  fail, 
Or  in  high  worship  of  thy  mightier  power. 

[They  rise.\ 
First  Sage. 

[In  amazement.'] 
But  sure  the  gods  are  come  ! 

Ithiel. 

The  gods  indeed  \ 
Or  rather  that  one  God  whom  I  declare 
To  your  blest  hearing.     Think  not  letter'd  seers 
The  babe  ye  seek  is  born  an  earthly  king, 
Or  yet  a  victor  of  the  nation's  lords, 
Or  ever  such  to  reign,  until  a  time 
Remote,  and  still  in  distant  vista  seen 
By  blest  anointed  eyes.     Ye  come  to  see 


70  ADVENT. 

No  pompous  pageant  of  imperial  show, 

No  royal  infant  girt  with  princesses 

And  queens  about  him  for  his  ministry  — 

A  God  ye  seek,  and  yet  a  God  not  laid 

On  stuffs  of  tap'stry  and  embroidered  gold, 

Nor  cradled  soft  like  fabled  Iamus 

Upon  boon  nature's  own  maternal  bed, 

Mid  violets  and  roses  gemm'd  with  dew  — 

But  neath  a  lowly  shed  —  a  manger's  roof — 

Nursed  on  the  breast  of  fair  humility, 

And  lodged  in  cribs  where  toiling  oxen  feed, 

There  doth  he  rest  — a  God  —  the  God  who  rules 

The  earth,  and  all  earth's  people,  and  who  rolls 

O'er  heaven's  high  pathway  oft  his  thundering  car, 

And  hurls  full  frequent  thence  on  guilty  heads 

The  fierce  far-flaming  flashes  of  his  ire  — 

A  God  who  in  the  storm  is  heard,  and  terrible 

Comes  in  the  giant  whirlwind,  and  who  heaves 

The  surging  billows  high  against  the  clouds  — 

But  yet  a  God  who  lays  his  might  aside 

—  His  arm  than  famed  Alcides'  stronger  far  — 

And  here  in  poor  Ephrata,  which  ye  see 

On  yon  ridged  hill,  not  distant,  doth  become 


ADVENT.  71 

The  bright  first  born  of  pure  virginity 
And  David's  nobler  son. 

Omar. 

With  deep  amaze 
All  radiant  stranger  thy  instructions  sage 
And  marvellous,  we  hear  ;  yet  would  inquire 
(If  not  profane  to  ask)  their  meaning  hid 
And  scarce  contain'd  by  our  surprised  ears. 
More  would  we  know,  and  chance  thy  blessed  Lord 
Hath  sent  thee  to  direct  our  groping  minds, 
And  all  these  mystic  doctrines  to  explain. 
What  mean  they  then, and  how  can  these  things  be  ! 

Ithiel. 

Right  ye  surmise,  for  with  swift  wings  I  come, 
Sent  by  my  Lord  your  willing  guide  to  be 
And  to  instruct  you  in  these  hidden  things, 
(Fur  hidden  things  they  are,  yet  simple  too,) 
That  with  due  knowledge  ye  may  greet  his  reign, 
And  at  his  feet  your  princely  homage  pay. 
Then  follow  me,  for  I  will  guide  your  feet 
In  the  soft  paths  of  pleasantness  and  peace  ; 
And  as  we  linger  on  our  way,  will  show 
The  wonders  that  in  Jewry  have  been  wrought, 


72  ADVENT. 

And  why  this  infant  God  is  lowly  born 
Whose  festive  advent  stars  and  angels  tell. 

Omar. 

We  yield  thee  thanks,  and  gladly  we  accept 
Such  heavenly  pilot  of  our  darksome  way. 
Still  would  we  listen  to  thy  gentle  voice  — 
Still  learn  true  wisdom  in  sweet  music  drest, 
And  with  our  hearts  athirst  for  things  divine  — 
We  beg  thy  kind  illuming  as  we  go. 

Scene  changes.    The  Shepherds'  lawn  ;  the  banquet 
over,  and  the  dance  just  ended. 

Reuel. 

And  now  our  tripping  measures  at  an  end, 
Our  feast  partaken,  and  our  sports  worn  out, 
Let  us  once  more  to  song ! 
Serah. 

Nay,  we  must  go  ! 
Sure  the  gray  dawn  would  catch  us  still  at  play 
If  thou  wert  master  of  our  merriment. 

Reuel. 

Well,  I  am  master ;  and  before  we  part 


ADVENT.  73 

Sure  Serah  thou  wilt  sing  that  lovely  lay, 
Which,  as  though  wont  to  vie  with  cherubim 
Thy  voice  to  numbers  gives.     Tis  fitting  time, 
And  soft  at  this  lone  hour  the  notes  will  swell, 
More  dulcet  for  the  trillings,  which  the  hills 
Will  echo  to  the  woodlands:  and  'tis  right 
That  in  our  pastime  we  should  praise  Him,  too, 
Whose  coming,  long  our  sorrowing  tribes  have 

hoped, 
Whose  advent,  at  the  farthest,  must  be  near. 

A  Shepherd. 

Nay  Reuel,  thou'st  a  sombre  taste  to-night ! 
Give  me  some  gayer  air,  some  lovelit  lay, 
Some  song,  some  dance,  some  moonlight  serenade. 
Old  David's  self,  that  used  to  pasture  here 
His  father's  flocks,  had  weary  been  of  hymns 
That  suit  far  better  Sabbath's  synagogue, 
Than    shepherds'   lawns,    and    these    enchanting 
maids. 

Serah. 

Out  shepherd  !  David  was  not  always  old  ! 
Speak  not  so  lightly  of  the  noble  bard 
For  whom  e'en  yet  Judea's  daughters  weep. 

7 


74  ADVENT. 

He  was  as  lusty  and  as  proud  a  youth 

As  e'er  won  woman's  smile  ;  and  to  the  eye, 

As  lordly  and  as  fair  to  look  upon 

As  e'er  young  virgin  dream'd  of.     Oh,  no  more 

Are  found  such  bridegrooms  for  the  Hebrew  girl ! 

Yet  ever  was  his  harp  attun'd  for  heaven, 

Nor  ever  was  his  lay  of  aught  below, 

For  his  the  lyre  that  rais'd  him  up  from  earth, 

To  breathe  heaven's  purest  ether  while  he  sung. 

Shepherd. 

Aye  Serah,  and  full  oft,  'tis  said,  he  flew 
Above  the  stars,  beyond  the  firmament, 
Within  the  veil  that  hides  the  Holy  One, 
And  heard  heaven's  music  there. — 'Tis  known  as 

well 
He  oft  descended  too  :  and  he  that  soar'd, 
Wetting  his  wing  in  pure  ambrosial  dews, 
And  higher  rising  to  empyreal  light, 
And  gazing  fearless  on  the  opal  throne, 
Yet  stoop'd  full  oft  where  woman's  beauty  wooed  ; 
And  joyed  as  well  in  her  sweet  love,  I  ween, 
When  fair  Bathsheba,  blushing  like  the  morn, 
Left  Uri's  bosom  for  his  own  fond  arms, 


ADVENT.  75 

As  ever,  when  on  rapture's  wings  he  rose 
Where  cherubs  chaunt,  and  seraphs  veil'd  adore. 

Seiiaii. 
And  ever  thus  'twas  poet's  privilege 
To  live  'twixt  earth  and  heav'n.    And  some  more 

gross 
Have  honour'd  only  their  terrestrial  home, 
While  bards  of  nobler  spirit  dwell  on  high  ; 
There  seek  those  forms  of  beauty  that  on  earth 
Though  hov'ring  in  their  fancy,  flee  their  arms ; 
And  in  such  angel-converse,  such  sweet  love, 
Roaming  in  light,  mid  islands  of  the  blest, 
They  live  above  the  world  —  with  gods  they  live, 
And  only  stoop,  when  back  to  earth  allur'd 
By  eyes  as  seraph-like  as  aught  in  heav'n. 

Shepherd. 

Yet,  more  than  such,  I  praise  sage  Solomon. 

He  was  the  lordliest  of  all  earthly  kings, 

The  noblest  of  all  earthly  poets  too  — 

And  ever  was  his  lay  of  woman's  love, 

Of  Salem's  bright-eyed  girls,  of  Sheba's  queen  ; 

And  mid  a  thousand  wooing  concubines 

He  lived,  and  was  a  minstrel  monarch  still. 


76  ADVENT. 

Serah. 

Nay,  Shepherd,  for  the  sage  became  a  fool, 
And  lost  his  god-lit  lyre  :  with  dotage  tame, 
Melting  the  priceless  pearl  of  poesy 
In  the  sweet  draught  of  woman's  opiate  love. 
And  for  those  thousand  girls  that  smiled  on  him, 
A  thousand  wings  of  cherubs,  brighter-eyed, 
That  o'er  his  harp  with  inspiration  hung, 
Fled  his  ungrateful  service,  and  awhile 
Left  him  with  leman,  and  with  paramour, 
To  learn  what  earthly  love  alone  can  do. 

Reuel. 
I  do  remember  of  a  lay  I've  heard, 
Writ  by  some  Rabbin  of  the  olden  time  ; 
(A  quaint  old  story  with  a  moral  in't 
That  told  how  Joseph  from  Zuleika  fled, 
And  of  the  elders  when  Susannah  bathed  — 
Which  oft  my  father  would  to  me  repeat 
Beneath  the  shady  palms,  a  summer's  day, 
While  there  reclin'd  we  watch'd  our  flocks  hard  by) 
That  all  its  opening  was  a  long  lament 
O'er  those  sad  times,  w7hen  sons  of  God  forgot 
The  homes  where  they  were  natives,  and  anon 
Came  flying  down  to  wed  with  lovely  clay. 


ADVENT.  77 

For  there  were  angels  once  —  the  story  went, 
That  hovering,  aye,  too  near  this  baser  world, 
Did  on  a  time  alight  upon  its  hills  — 
Forgetful  of  the  regions  whence  they  sprung, 
And  lured  like  charmed  birds  in  Eden's  bowers, 
That  lulled  by  magic  of  the  serpent's  eye 
Did  often  fall  from  their  sweet  Paradise, 
To  warn  our  mother  Eve  of  that  worse  fall, 
Which  Adam  wept,  and  nature  weeps,  and  we. 

Seraii. 

And  such  those  poets  shepherd,  that  first  form'd 
To  sing  on  high  and  lure  us  to  the  skies, 
Themselves  have  hover'd  round  our  lower  soil  — 
Till  charm'd  with  earth  —  base  earth  has  dragg'd 
them  down  ! 

Reuel. 

And  on  these  flowery  hills  the  angels  stood, 
Lighted   where  flowers   were   fairest ;    and   well 

pleas'd 
Awhile  they  loiter'd  in  the  balmy  shade. 
'Twas  sweet  to  rest  their  wings  that  soar'd  so  high, 
And  there  delighted  did  they  roam  at  large, 
7* 


78  ADVENT, 

'Till  longing  for  companionship,  at  length 
They  wander'd  forth  to  seek  earth's  habitants  — 
If  chance  such  pleasant  homes  might  hold  their 

peers. 
And  in  the  merry  wood,  they  met  one  day 
Men's  fairest  daughters  — angels  though  unwing'd, 
At  once  in  love  — from  out  the  fairy  group 
They  chose   the  loveliest   mates  that  e'er  were 

wooed. 
And  long  in  nuptial  bowers  they  dallied  then  ; 
And  long  mid  groves,  and  shades,  and  leafy  nooks, 
They  lived  and  loved,  now  laid  in  glitt'ring  grot, 
Now  roving  through  the  forest  far  and  free, 
And  now  by  sparkling  streamlet  loitering, 
Or  glassy  lake,  that  mirror'd  back,  I  ween, 
Forms  such  as  since  were  never.     By  their  side, 
Anon  were  seen  bright  boys  and  fair-hair'd  girls, 
Children  of  beauty,  by  immortals  sired. 
—  How  happy  were  their  days  !    The  golden  age 
Was  this,  and  heathen  have  the  tale. 
They  were  undying,  and  through  long,  long  years 
Felt  no  decay.     Their  cherish'd  fair-ones,  too, 
Were  blooming  still.  —  Tvvas  in  old  Noah's  time. 
When  man  as  yet  did  number  all  his  days. 


ADVENT. 


79 


And  so  they  tearless  lived  ;  and  wedded  now 
With  Adam's  children,  they  like  him  forgot 
The  God  whose  goodness  made  all  earth  so  fair, 
And  His   sweet  smile,   who   breath'd  them   into 

bloom. 
And  chance  till  now,  or  till  the  flood  at  least 
Swept  the  old  world  with  all  its  pride  away, 
Those  angel-lovers  would  have  known  no  tears  — 
But  on  a  day,  when  least  they  thought  ordream'd 
Of  such  surprisal  —  lo  !  a  seraph  comes  — 
—  Heaven's  sweetest  odours  on  his  plumy  wings, 
And  girt  with  breezes,  whose  ambrosial  scent 
Did  mind  the  wand'rers  of  their  far-off  home. 
Fair,    godlike,    bright    he    stood.      The    truants 

blush'd  — 
With  downcast  looks  they  hid  their  tarnish'd  wings, 
And  waking  from  their  dreamy  lovewrought  spell, 
They  knew  their  glory  gone.   Their  peer  the  while 
Erect,  and  like  all  beauty  bodied  forth, 
Nor  parleyed  with  them,  nor  ioquir'd  their  weal. 
Backward  he  drew,  and,  as  in  wonderment, 
Folding  his  wings,  he  paused  a  moment  there. 
Then,  with  such  speaking  smile  as  angels  use 
When  they  would  scorn  —  '  Poor  fallen  earthlings 

ye.' 


80  ADVENT. 

At  length   he  spoke,  Move  still  your  earth-born 

mates ! 

If  in  those  arms,  those  breasts,  ye  take  delight, 

Oh  woo  them  still ;  they're  beautiful  though  dust !' 

He  touch'd    them  —  and  they  felt  their  pinions 

shrink. 
He  vanish'd,  and  with  him  they  strove  to  rise. 

They  strove  in  vain :  their  plumes  were  useless 

now. 

With  tears  first  shed,  they  turned  to  earth  to  wreep  ; 

But  horror  —  on  the  sward  that  meet  their  eyes, 

—  The  rosy  breath  just  ebbing  from  their  lips, 
In  death's  embrace,  and  withering  back  to  dust  — 
Lay  the  vain  beauties  that  had  cost  them  heav'n. 
Oh,  vain  to  tell  what  follow'd  of  their  wo  ! 
Hapless  immortals  !  To  this  hour,  unseen 

They  haunt  the  spot  that  saw  their  anguish  then, 
And  hover  o'er  the  turf  that  drank  their  tears. 
'Tis  in  old  Charran,  by  Euphrates'  wave. 
And  there,  the  wand'rer  even  now  may  hear 

—  If  chance  at  lonely  hour  he  pass  that  way  — 
Voices  in  air  that  wail  their  misery  ; 

That  weep  for  heaven,  though  long  estranged  from 

there  ; 
That  mourn  their  angel-mates,  abandon'd  once  ; 


ADVENT.  81 

That  doomed  to  live,  yet  howl    for  death  their 
prayer 

—  A  seraph's  yearning  for  a  mortal's  grave. 
Forgive  me  that  so  long  I  weary  you ; 
But  ev'n  like  these  do  seem  those  bards  to  me, 
Who,  sons  of  God,  forget  their  royal  home  ; 
Who  form'd  for  heav'n,  yet  lea^  e  its  purer  air  : 
Who  stoop  below  to  find  them  earthly  mates ; 
Who  waste  long  years  in  dalliance  and  soft  love, 
Nor  e'er  again  do  stretch  their  wings  to  soar, 
Till  all  too  late,  they  find  them  chain-bound  here, 
And  linked  to  earth  by  fetters  of  their  own. 

Skrah. 

Ah,  who  can  paint  the  after  doom  of  su^h, 
Or,  who  can  tell  what  pangs  their  spirits  bear  ! 
No  doubt,  where  e'er  they  live,  their  souls  the  more 
Feel  the  keen  suffering,  as  in  earlier  days 
They  better  knew  each  subtle  form  of  joy, 
And  deeper  drank  of  beauty's  flowery  bowl. 
Such  ever  be  their  fate.     They  earned  it  well ; 
They  made  fair  Poesy  a  leman  loose, 
Not  wooed  her  as  a  virgin  undefiled, 
Nor  gave  their  heart  to  her,  that  gave  them  all. 


82  ADVENT. 

Some  say,  our  God  himself  first  taught  to  man 

The  feeling  and  the  speech  of  poesy, 

And  in  a  favor'd  heart,  first  planted  deep 

The  seeds  that  since  have  grown  into  a  tree, 

Too,  like  that  tree  of  knowledge  —  poisonous, 

Though  luscious  to  the  taste  ;  and  some  pretend 

That  angels  only,  did  the  language  teach 

Of  harp  and  lute  —  their  own  first-fashioning  — 

To  Jubal,  who  was  father  of  all  such 

As  handle  strings  and  swelling  organ  well. 

But  all  confess  that  it  did  come  from  heaven. 

Then,  oh  what  shame  it  should  forget  its  birth ! 

What  crime  its  hymmings  should  of  Moloch  be, 

Of  Baal,  of  Remphan,  of  the  golden  calf, 

But  never  of  the  God  who  father'd  it, 

Who  is  himself  all-perfect  poetry, 

Whose  being  is  all  beauty,  all  sublime, 

Whose  breath  is  music,  and  his  thunder  too. 

Shepherd. 
I  see  that  Reuel  hath  outargued  me 
In  thy  too  partial  hearing  ;  but  no  more  ! 
Sing  Serah  as  thou  wilt,  for  in  thy  heart 
Full  well  I  know  my  fav'rite  is  thine  own. 


ADVENT.  83 

Serati. 

Bethink  thee,  swain,  'twas  Solomon  that  sung 
How  all  is  vanitv.     Those  angel  wings 
Did  visit  him  again  or  ere  he  died, 
And  then  —  like  poet-birds  that  heathens  tell  of, 
That  dying  pour  their  sweetest  minstrelsy  — 
His  soft,  persuasive,  dulcet  numbers  flowed, 
Beseeching  thee,  in  early  youth,  to  learn 
His  tender  love,  whose  love  alone  doth  live, 
And  his  sweet  praise,  ere  colder  days  draw  nigh, 
When  thy  shrunk  heart  shall  find  no  joy  in  him. 

Shepherd. 

Thy  words  o'ermaster  me  !  Oh,  gentle  girl 

Thou  hast  advantage  in  thy  speaking  eyes ; 

I  always  could  outargue  woman's  words, 

But  woman's  glances  ever  vanquish  me. 

Now  let  thy  pure  lips  give  sweet  sounds  to  heav'n  ! 

Sure  thou  shalt  sing,  and  we  will  join  the  praise. 

Thou  hast  convinc'd  us  all. 

Reuel. 

And  Serah  well 
Thy  poet  tongue  hath  proved  the  poet's  part. 


84  ADVENT. 

Now  sing  for  me,  and  if  thy  lips  as  well 
Have  learn'd  sweet  numbers,  as  sweet  reasoning, 
Thou  need'st  not  weep  that  David's  days  are  done. 
Or  that  his  harp,  so  eloquent  erewhile, 
On  Babel's  willows  long;  a<?one  was  mute. 

Seraii. 
With  joy  persuasive  shepherd  I  obey. 
'Twere  pleasure  in  itself  to  sing  for  thee, 
And  oh,  thrice  pleasure  w7hen  1  sing  to  Him, 
Whose  praise  by  Egypt's  plague -tormented  sea, 
By  Silo's  fount,  or  waves  of  Babylon, 
The  Hebrew  maid  hath  ever  at  her  heart. 

The  Song. 
The  wilderness  shall  bloom 

And  blossom  like  the  rose  — 
And  desert-places  shall  be  green, 
And  Salem  rise  in  royal  sheen, 

As  when  the  morning  glows. 
Chorus. 
Smile  desert-place  and  wilderness 

And  blossom  like  the  rose, 
Thy  Monarch  comes,  and  all  thy  waste 

Like  od'rous  Sharon  blows. 


ADVENT.  SS 

And  lo  !  a  virgin  womb 

Shall  bear  a  royal  son  ; 
A  branch  shall  bud  from  Jesse's  rod, 
The  Prince  of  Peace  —  the  mighty  God  — 

The  everlasting  One  ! 

Chorus. 

Smile  desert-place  and  wilderness 

And  blossom  like  the  rose, 
For  lo  !  he  comes,  and  all  thy  waste 

Like  flowery  Carmel  blows. 

Risefrom  thy  lowly  doom, 

Daughter  of  Salem  rise  ! 
The  dawning  morn  is  nigh ; 
The  dayspring  from  on  high 

Beams  on  thy  tearful  eyes. 

Chorus. 

Smile  desert-place  and  wilderness 

And  blossom  like  the  rose, 
And  smile,  sad  land,  thy  King  hath  come, 

And  vanished  are  thy  foes. 

And  lo  !  the  lonely  wilderness 

Like  blooming  Eden  blows. 
8 


86  ADVENT. 

Serah. 

And  now  we  go.     So,  Reuel,  till  we  meet, 
Heaven  with  you  be  — 

A  Shepherdess. 

And  all  of  you  farewell  ! 

Reuel. 

Farewell,  gay  creatures,  if  we  thus  must  part, 
And  some  good  spirit  guide  you  on  your  way  ! 
Time  was  when  it  had  been  most  dangerous 
(Judging  by  stories  of  the  olden  day) 
For  such  rare  beauty  to  appear  abroad 
At  hours  so  late.    But  now  the  times  are  changed, 
And  chang'd  (by  wonder !)  advantageously. 
Ye  need  not  fear  ;  for  in  the  shadow'd  wood 
No  sworded  outlaw  lurks  in  wait  to-night, 
Nor  prowls  the  spoiler  of  the  maiden  there  ; 
Though  even  such  would  fear  to  injure  you, 
And  well  I  ween,  Lot's  worst  co-citizens 
Had  failed  in  heart  such  purity  to  mar. 

Serah. 

Our  cot  is  near,  we  shortly  shall  be  there  — 


ADVENT.  87 

Reuel. 

And,  Serah,  I  will  seek  thee  there  betimes. 
I  have  a  something  I  would  say  to  thee  — 
And  I  with  garlands  must  repay  thy  song, 
That  hath  outvied  young  Eden's  nightingale, 
But  more  reminds  me  of  the  turtle's  voice, 
That,  when  balm  spring  first  makes  her  musical, 
Is  heard  at  eve,  oft  warbling  to  her  love 
Such  notes  as  nature,  when  she  hears,  improves, 
And  warms  to  dalliance  soft  his  fond  desire. 

Serah. 

Nay,  let  me  rather  be  sweet  Philomel ! 

She  drinks  from  flowery   urns    heaven's   purest 

dews, 
And  oft,  when  hymning  to  the  starry  night, 
Charms  the  bright  cherubs,  that  on  rosy  wings 
Bend  through  the  mists  to  list  her  warbled  lay, 
And  learn  themselves,  from  earthly  worshippers, 
Diviner  music  for  their  harps  above. 

Reuel. 

Then  be  it  as  thou  wilt ;  an  angel  well 

Might  pause  and  hover  where  thy  voice  allures ! 


88  ADVENT. 

Seraii. 

Ha !  I  am  pausing  here,  allur'd  by  thine  ! 

But  now  no  more  ;  we  leave  you  to  the  stars ; 

Blest  be  your  watching  ! 

Reuel. 

May  the  stars  leave  us 
When  ye  depart.     But  peace  your  steps  attend  ! 

A  Shepherd. 
And  our  most  hearty  thanks  !  we  owe  you  much 
For  your  sweet  singing,  and  your  rich  regale. 

[Exeunt  J\ 
Thus  far,  indeed,  we've  had  a  merry  watch 
Beneath  such  starlight  as  not  often  shines ! 

Reuel. 
Aye,  would  that  oft'ner  such  sweet  starlight  shone. 
As  from  their  tender  eyes,  they  sparkled  down 
On  our  late  vigils  !     Stars  they  are,  indeed, 
And  Serah  worthiest  of  the  title  fair  — 
Mild  morning-star  !  or  like  yon  queenly  moon, 
That  smiles  as  in  meek  glory  on  she  moves, 
And  rules  the  chiming  of  her  sister  spheres. 


ADVENT.  89 

A  Shepherd. 

Come,  then,  let  us  repeat  the  lay  they  sung, 
Or  wake  new  notes  responsive  to  their  praise ; 
For  still  I  more  admire  those  holy  hymns 
Which  rapt  Isaiah's  seraph-harp  inspir'd, 
Or  on  King  David's  lyre  first  rose  to  God, 
Than  aught  our  other  bards  have  vainly  sung, 
Or  we  ourselves  with  rude  ill-favour'd  art, 
In  past'ral  sport,  to  past'ral  songs  have  set. 
And  sure  the  praises  of  our  God  befit 
The  season,  and  the  hour,  and  our  poor  tongues, 
Far  more  than  idle  ditties  to  the  stars, 
Or  sick'ning  lays  of  loves  we  do  not  feel  ! 

Reuel. 

Thou  sayest  well.     No  melody  of  love, 

No  merry  notes  that  light  the  gamesome  dance, 

No  incense  paean  chaunted  in  the  way 

Of  laurelled  victor  triumphing  from  war, 

No  ditty  fram'd  for  mistress  or  fair  spouse, 

No  warbled  blessing  on  the  newly  wed, 

Nor  hymeneal  at  the  bridal  trolled, 

Hath  such  sweet  magic  for  my  simple  ear, 

As  David's  hallow'd  minstrelsy  hath  shed 

Round  the  sweet  carols  of  Messiah's  praise. 

8* 


90  ADVENT. 

First  Shepherd. 

Then  breathe  soft  flute,  I'll  lead  the  goodly  chaunt, 
And  chance  high  heaven  may  hear  our  humble  joy. 

The  Song. 
Hark,  a  glad  voice  !  Thy  King  doth  come, 

Salem  thy  glory  show : 
Behold  ye  blind  and  sing  ye  dumb, 
And  leap  ye  lame  before  your  Lord, 

As  bounds  the  merry  roe  ! 

Chorus. 

So  cometh  he, 
The  blind  shall  see, 

The  deaf  his  voice  shall  hear  ; 
Oh,  wake  and  dress  thee  gloriously  I 
Proud  Salem  rise  !  apparel  thee  — 

Thy  Monarch  doth  appear. 

Kind  Shepherd  of  the  fold, 

His  arms  the  lambs  shall  bear  ! 

He  leads  them  to  the  clearest  streams, 
To  pastures  ever  fair. 

He  cometh  —  Salem  wake  again  ! 
Thy  vanished  glory  wear  ! 


ADVENT.  91 

Chorus. 

He  cometh  like  the  light, 

He  cometh  like  the  day  — 
The  nations  shadow'd  long  in  night, 

Behold  his  rising  ray. 

He  cometh  from  the  wilderness, 
Like  incense-clouds  that  glow  ! 

He  cometh  from  the  mountain-top, 
He  skippeth  like  the  roe  — 

He  cometh  where  his  gardens  bloom, 

Where  southern  breezes  waft  perfume, 
And  spicy  gales  do  blow. 

Chorus. 

The  valley  riseth,  and  he  comes  ! 

The  hills  are  bending  down. 
Beheld,  proud  land,  thy  Monarch  comes  ! 

He  wears  thine  ancient  crown  ! 
Oh,  hear  his  voice  among  the  hills 

And  mid  the  forests  brown  ! 

Reuel. 

Shepherds  !    Methought  I  heard  soft  answerings, 


92  ADVENT. 

Sweet  music  far  away  !    Say,  heard  ye  too? 
Or  am  I  still  deceived  ?  for  even  now 
I  hear  it,  sure  ! 

First  Shepherd. 
Nay,  I  have  heard  no  song, 
Save  our  own  lay,  and  echoes  which  the  hills 
Sent  trilling  back  — 

Another, 

I  heard  what  Reuel  did ! 
'Twas  but  the  echoes  which  the  woodlands  gave, 
From  yonder  steep  —  such  mimic  sponsors  they  ! 

Reuel. 

But  list !     What  hear  ye  now  ?     The  stars  have 

join'd 
Our  past'ral  concert,  and  with  sphery  songs 
Give  back  our  glad  rejoicings. 

Hark !   more  clear, 
And  nearer  still  it  comes.     'Tis  from  above, 
And  'tis  descending  !     Sure  ye  hear  it  now  ! 

First  Shepherd. 
I  hear  a  something,  truly  — 


ADVENT.  93 

Reuel. 

Tis  the  choir 
Of  minstrel-angels,  that  with  golden  harps 
And  vials  breathing  odours,  gird  the  throne 
Of  radiant  Godhead  ! 

List !  with  heavenly  hymns, 
They  join  the  humble  worship  of  our  songs 
And  feeble  voices. 

A  Shepherd. 

Nay,  thou  railest,  swain, 
'Tis  chance  some  other  group  of  shepherd-lads 
On  neighb'ring  hills,  rejoicing  e'en  as  we. 

Reuel. 

Shepherds,  I  do  not  rail.     But  would  it  be 
A  marvel  if  my  strange  surmise  were  true  ? 
Bethink  ye  how  of  late  the  promis'd  signs 
Of  our  Immanuel's  coming  have  appear'd  — 
The  wonders,  too,  in  Salem  that  have  been 
Since  the  archangel  shone  to  Zachary, 
At  time  of  incense  when  he  burned  perfume. 
Have  ye  not  heard  that  in  her  barren  age 
Elizabeth  hath  borne  a  blooming  boy, — 


94  ADVENT. 

A  marvel  from  his  birth  —  and  how  his  sire, 
(Long  by  the  angel's  glory  stricken  dumb,) 
Broke  forth  in  prophet-rapture  strange  to  all, 
Naming  his  child  Elias,  and  the  Sent 
Of  heaven,  to  herald  our  Immanuel  ! 
What  wonder,  then,  if  now  Immanuel  come  ? 
Strange  sights  I  saw  when  I  was  gone  afar 
After  the  straying  lamb.     An  angel  guide 
Did  lead  me  homeward  — 

—  But  once  more  above  ! 
Those  strains  are  chiming  nearer ;  and,  behold, 
The  welkin  glows  with  brightness. 

First  Shepherd. 

Ah,  I  yield  ! 
Or  seraphs,  or  the  choir  of  stars  I  hear  — 
And  see,  the  firmament  with  silver  light 
Glitters  and  gleams  ! 

Another. 

Oh,  see  what  streaming  bands 
Of  glory  swathe  the  pole  ! 

Reuel. 

'Tis  dread  to  see  ! 


ADVENT.  05 

The  music  scarce  I  hear  ;  for  oh  !  such  light 
Sure  mortal  eye  hath  ne'er  beheld  and  liv'd. 

First  Shepherd. 

Such  flashing  beams !  all  heaven  seems  coming 

down, 
Or  heaven's  all-flaming  armies  —  on  their  wings 
Of  plumy  lustre  flying  ! 

Reuel. 

Lo !  the  skies 
Are  opening.     Wo  for  us  !  our  eyes  behold 
Forbidden  glory  ! 

A  Shepherd. 
Ah,  I  fear ! 

Another. 

Alas! 
Where  shall  we  flee  ! 

Reuel. 

An  angel  comes,  oh  kneel ! 

[Ithiel   is  seen  descending.     The   Shepherds  fall 
backwards  covering  their  faces.] 


96 


ADVENT. 


He  comes  on  rolling  rays  of  glory  down ; 
How  shall  we  worship  ! 

Shepherds. 

Oh,  the  dazzling  light ! 

Reuel. 

He  conies,  a  seraph  bright ! 

Ithiel  enters. 

Ithiel. 

Fear  not  good  shepherds  !    Far  above 

Were  heard  your  grateful  lays, 
And  these  are  choirs  of  heavenly  love 

That  echo  back  your  praise. 
Fear  not.     The  Lord  is  born  ! 

In  David's  city,  David's  royal  Son  — 
The  shadowy  types  are  done  ; 

He  comes  like  rising  morn 
And  haste  ye  to  his  feet ; 

Oh,  hasten  to  adore  — 
Rise,  blessed  swains,  'tis  yours  to  greet 

The  presence  prophets  did  entreat, 
And  kings  desired  of  yore. 


ADVENT.  07 

Shepherds. 

[With  emotion,] 
Ah,  we  shall  never  more 
Behold  the  day  — 

Ithiel. 

Fear  not !  Behold  on  high 
The  glory  beaming  sky  — 
Behold,  ye  may  ! 

Reuel. 

Ah  no,  we  turn  away  ! 

Ithiel. 

Nay,  look  above,  and  list  their  song — 
They're  gathering  now  —  the  heavenly  throng. 

[They  look  up  in  amazement.'] 

And  see  !  they  come,  the  angel  choir, 
That  sweep  th'  immortal  lyre, 

His  birth  to  greet : 
Upon  the  mountain-cloud, 
Of  glory  'neath  them  bowed, 

How  beautiful  their  feet  ! 
9 


98  ADVENT. 

Oh  ye  that  bring  good  tidings,  say 
What  of  the  passing  night ! 

[Answered  from  above. 

It  waneth ;  and  the  day 
Is  rising  bright.] 

Reuel. 

Ah  me  !    I  die  —  the  dazzling  light ! 

Ithiel. 
Fear  not,  'tis  mercy  bright. 

Reuel. 

What  sang  they  then  ? 

Ithiel. 

Good- will  to  men — 

Reuel. 

No  more  I  fear  — 

Ithiel. 

But  hark,  their  cheer ! 


i 


ADVENT.  99 

[A  chorus  of  angels  is  heard  above.] 

Chorus. 

All  glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 

Peace  cometh  to  men  of  good-will  ! 

Oh,  praise  him  bright  seraph  that  fliest  — 
Ye  cherubs  be  praising  him  still  ! 

Semi-Chorus. 

Lift  up  thy  portals,  earth, 
For  he  that  gave  thee  birth 
Forgives  thy  sin ! 

Chorus. 

Oh,  earth,  lift  up  thy  gates, 
The  King  of  glory  waits 
To  enter  in  ! 

Itiiiel. 

And  who  this  king  of  glory  ? 

Semi-Chorus. 

'Tis  he  that  spread  the  skies, 


100  ADVENT. 

That  bade  the  world  arise, 
That  made  the  day  — 
That  fixed  the  solid  land, 
That  poured  the  ocean  from  his  hand  — 

Chorus. 

And  breathed  the  living  soul  in  man's  majestic  clay. 

Then  lift  thine  arches  high  — 
Oh,  earth,  receive  thy  King. 

Behold  he  draweth  nigh  — 

Before  him  seraphs  fly, 
On  glory's  wing  ! 

Lift  up,  oh  earth,  thy  gates, 
The  King  of  glory  waits  — 
Ye  everlasting  doors  be  lifted  high  ! 

Ithiel. 

Who  is  this  King  of  glory  ? 

Chorus. 

Seraphs,  shout  his  story. 
Echo  through  the  crystal  skies 


ADVENT.  101 

Your  lofty  symphonies  — 

—  Who  is  this  King  of  glory  ? 

Chorus  of  Seraphs. 
'Tis  he  that  breaks  the  spoiler's  boasts, 

That  rules  the  tempest's  rattle  — 
'Tis  the  Lord  —  the  Lord  of  Hosts, 

Our  God  so  strong  in  battle  !  — 
Ope  thy  gates,  oh  earth,  'tis  He 
That  hath  built  thee  on  the  wave, 
And  fix'd  thee  on  the  sea  — 
He  cometh  girt  with  victory, 

A  Mighty  One  to  save  ! 

Chorus  of  Angels. 

This  the  King  of  glory,  then  ! 

Ope  thy  gates,  thine  arches  high  — 
Rise,  oh  captive  land,  again, 

And  shine  — thy  light  is  nigh  — 

Chorus  of  Seraphs. 

The  nations  seek  thy  rising  Star  — 
Like  doves  of  shining  feather, 
See  how  they  hover  from  afar  ! 
9* 


102  ADVENT. 

How  bright  their  fluttering  pinions  are, 
As  home  they  fleet  together  ! 
The  isles  — 

— The  isles  have  waited  long  — 
Where  none  before  went  through  thee  ; 
See  how  the  bending  Gentiles  throng  ! 
They  come,  they  gather  to  thee  : 

Semi-Chorus. 
Put  on  thy  strength,  oh  earth,  awake, 
For  lo,  the  skies  are  bending ! 
O'er  thee  the  beams  of  mercy  break  — 
Thy  Monarch  is  descending ; 

Chorus. 

For  this,  the  heavens  are  rending ! 

A  Full  Chorus. 

Now  we  praise  the  King  of  glory  ; 
Thou  art  coming  —  not  in  wrath  — 
Not  with  conqueror's  garments  gory, 
—  Mercy  beameth  on  thy  path  ! 
Now,  to  earth,  a  child  is  given, 
Wonderful !    The  Mighty  God  ! 


ADVENT.  103 

Everlasting  Sire  of  Heaven  — 
Prince  of  Peace  —  His  peaceful  rod 
O'er  the  nations  is  extending, 
And  for  this  the  heavens  are  rending  — 
Earth,  thy  Monarch  is  descending  ! 

Chorus  of  Seraphs. 

Softly  now  the  morning  beameth  — 
From  the  East  the  dayspring  streameth  — 
Peace  we  leave,  and  mercy  bright ; 
—  Now  we  vanish  into  light. 

[The  Seraphs  disappear  up  into  heaven.] 

Ithiel. 

They  melt  afar  !     The  naming  sky 
Hath  rapt  their  brightness  from  my  eye  ; 
Yet,  glory  to  our  God  on  high  — 

Semi-Chorus. 

[Still  lingering.'] 
And  peace  below  ! 
Back  to  our  heavenly  homes  we  fly  ; 
Yet,  ere  we  go  — 


104  ADVENT. 

Second  Semi-Chorus. 

—  While  yet  our  wings  are  hov'ring  nigh, 
Our  peace  bestow. 

First  Semi-Chorus. 
The  dawn  is  near  — 
No  more  we  stay, 
Or  linger  here  — 
Away,  away  ! 

[They  disappear.] 

Second  Semi-Chorus. 

[Lingering.'] 

But  first  on  earth 

Our  peace  bestow  — 
And  greeted  now  her  Saviour's  birth, 

We  go  —  we  go  ! 

[They  disappear  upwards.] 

Ithiel. 

They've  vanished  —  and  the  dawning  light, 

That  streaks  the  east  afar, 
How  faint  it  seems  !  Their  glory  bright 

Hath  dimm'd  the  morning  star ! 


ADVENT.  105 

[To  the  Shepherds.'] 
Go,  swains,  salute  your  new-born  King ! 
Or  ere  the  risen  day. 
Farewell  —  I  must  away  — 

[Rises.] 

Reuel. 

Ah,  see  !  he  spreads  his  glittering  wing — 

A  Shepherd. 

Oh,  stay  — 
Blest  messenger  of  light,  and  guide  our  way  ! 

Another. 
It  cannot  be  — 
No  more  we  see 

Those  wings  of  silver  sheen  — 

Reuel. 
He  melts  afar, 
Like  some  bright  star, 

Through  moonlight's  glory  seen ! 
Oh,  up  to  purer  day, 
He's  vanish'd,  and  away  — 
While  we  are  lowly  left  on  this  poor  shepherd's 
green. 


106  ADVENT. 

First  Shepherd. 

Yet  joy  !  that  our  blest  eyes 
Have  seen  the  flaming  angel  throng  — 
That  come  with  chorus  loud  and  long, 
Bright  seraphs'  mighty  numbers  strong, 
And  warbling  cherubim,  that  bring 
A  thousand  harps  of  heavenly  string, 

—  The  music  of  the  skies. 

Reuel. 

[Gazing  upwards. ~\ 
Oh,  earth  is  tame  — 
Ye  wings  of  flame, 

With  you,  my  spirit  flies  ! 

First  Shepherd. 

Ah  no,  we  cannot  rise  ! 
But  let  us  hasten  on  tow'rds  Bethlehem  ; 
There  we  have  yet  to  see,  of  all  these  hosts 
The  greater  King  — 

Reuel. 

But  oh,  can  this  be  true  ! 
Have  we  not  dreamed  !  Say,  have  we  seen  indeed 
The  Seraphim  ! 


ADVENT.  107 

First  Shepherd. 

Oh,  we  have  seen,  in  truth, 
The  armies  of  the  skies  —  have  gazed  unharm'd 
On  heaven's  bright  glories  — 

Reuel. 

—  Laud  and  glory  be 
Forever  to  the  Majesty  on  High  ! 
But  fear'd  ye  not  ? 

First  Shepherd. 

I  scarce  could  hear  for  fright. 

Another. 
And  for  the  glorious  blaze,  /  scarce  could  see  ! 

Reuel. 

So,  let  us  live,  that  we  may  yet  behold, 
Undazzled,  and  unfearing,  heavenly  light  — 
That  we  may  wear  ourselves  that  silver  sheen, 
The  livery  of  the  skies  —  and  breathe  the  pure 
Empyreal  atmosphere,  as  now  the  air 
We  draw,  our  element  and  home  ! 


108  ADVENT. 

A  Shepherd. 

Oh,  bright  the  hope  our  holy  faith  supplies  — 
And  think  !  we  are  not  shepherds,  half  so  much 
As  godlike  essences,  though  clogged  with  clay, 
And  here  by  frailties  bound  — 

Another. 

Ah,  wo  the  hour 
When  Adam  changed  such  ministers  as  these 
For  Eve's  decaying  beauty,  and  the  charms 
That  could  but  yield  him  offspring  like  himself, 
Earthborn  and  earthy. 

Reuel. 

Nay,  but  hail  the  hour, 
When  our  Messiah  more  than  pays  the  fall, 
And  bids  us  men,  no  more  in  Eden  dwell, 
But  with  himself  in  heaven  !    And  oh,  how  glad, 
How  wonderful  the  thought !  that  we,  poor  worms, 
May  yet  companions  be  of  angels  fair — 
Exchanging  past'ral  pipes  for  golden  lyres  ; 
These  lawns  for  heavenly  hills  that  ever  smile, 
These  mouldering  bodies  for  enduring  youth, 
This  mortal,  for  immortal,  and  this  life, 


ADVENT.  109 

That  is  but  death,  for  never-ending  days 
Of  beauty  and  of  bloom. 

First  Shepherd. 

Ennobling  thought ! 
And  ever  more  my  aspirations  be 
Tow'rds  that  bright  world,  of  which  a  denizen, 
I  soon  shall  be  enrolled  ! 

Reuel. 

But  we  forget ! 
Come,  let  us  haste  to  Bethlehem,  and  see 
If  all  these  things  are  so.     The  morning  breaks, 
And  ere  full  day,  we  have  been  bid  to  be 
At  our  Messiah's  feet.     Burn  not  your  hearts 
Within  you,  when  ye  think  of  what  to  us 
A  few  short  hours  shall  show  ? 

Shepherds. 

They  burn  indeed ! 

Reuel. 

Aye  ;  and  with  holy  love,  henceforth  shall  burn, 
At  mem'ry  of  the  wonders  of  this  night. 
10 


110  ADVENT. 

For  think,  we've  heard  the  melody  of  heaven  — 
With  mortal  eyes  have  gaz'd  upon  its  joys, 
Like  sainted  Enoch,  and  Elijah  too, 
That  walked  with  God,  and  without  death,  saw  life. 

First  Shepherd. 

But  let  us  go.     And  Reuel,  tell  us  all, 

As  on  we  fare,  about  the  angel  guide, 

Last  eve  that  led  thee  from  thy  wanderings  far. 

All  night,  I  saw  a  something  in  thy  looks 

And  alter'd  actions,  making  me  suspect 

E'en  then,  thou  knewest  something  kept  from  us. 

But  tell  us  all  — 

Reuel. 
I  will,  as  we  depart. 
Come  on  with  me  —  and  haste  !  or  else  the  day 
Will  be  upon  us  unawares  at  last. 

Scene  changes.     A  road-side.     Enter  Zacharias 
and  Elizabeth. 

Zacharias. 

Look,  how  the  morning  breaks  !  The  dark  is  past ; 
Night's  stars  are  fading  out,  and  yonder  see 


ADVENT.  Ill 

The  light  that  doth  eclipse  them.  There  he  comes, 
The  bright,  the  morning  star  —  himself  ere  long 
To  be  outshone  by  beams  more  beautiful, 
Melting  in  glory  —  as  the  righteous  die. 

Elizabeth. 

He  comes,  faint  emblem  of  the  brighter  star 
To  whose  glad  rise  we  go.     Oh,  happy  dawn ! 
The  morning  mists  shone  never  merrier  ! 
Earth  seems  more  fair  this  blest  redemption  day ! 
The  air  is  bracing  —  all's  awake  and  stirring ; 
Nature  doth  know  her  Lord,  and  thus  betimes, 
To  meet  his  face,  puts  gay  apparel  on  ! 

Zacharias. 

A  merry  morn  indeed  !     And  hark,  afar 
The  larum  rings  of  early  chaunticleer, 
Calling  on  drowsy  man  to  rouse  with  him, 
And  sympathize  with  nature's  gayety  ! 

Elizabeth. 

Methinks  these  birds  of  morn  all  night  have  sung ! 
From  hill  to  hill,  I've  heard  them  answering  — 
And,  wide  awake,  the  stars  and  they  seem'd  vying 


112  ADVENT. 

Which  most  should  show  their  consciousness  of 

joy. 

Z  AC  H  ARIAS. 

Now  I  bethink  me,  there's  a  prophecy  — 
Which  long  hath  been  abroad  in  Israel, 
That  thus  from  set  of  sun,  the  cock  should  crow 
'Till  early  dawn,  when  our  Messiah  comes, 
Winding  his  shrilly  clarion  all  the  night, 
And  heralding,  as  wont,  the  rising  day  — 
His  rising  day,  who  on  the  nations  shines, 
And  warms  the  people  that  in  darkness  dwell. 

Elizabeth. 
Oh,  I  have  heard  the  old  prediction  oft ! 
And  chance  to  this  we  owe  our  safety  now. 
'Twas  added  to  the  adage,  how  that  then 
No  plunderer  should  wait  the  passenger, 
No  fiend  should  lurk  to  prey  on  innocence, 
No  harm  should  be  abroad,  no  death  be  blown 
Upon  the  midnight  breeze  —  and  that  no  power 
Of  demon's  art,  should  work  us  injury. 
So  hath  it  been  most  happily  fulfill'd. 
No  evil  hath  been  here  —  the  terror,  too, 
That  flies  and  wastes  in  darkness,  hath  been 
lay'd- 


ADVENT.  113 

And  quietly  upon  our  way,  and  affable, 
We've  traveled  unattended,  yet  unharm'd. 

Zacharias. 

Not  unattended  —  for  no  doubt  unseen, 
Some  guardian-angel  hath  our  footsteps  led  ; 
E'en  as  of  old  the  godlike  poet  sung  — 
Spirits  of  bliss  have  charge  concerning  thee, 
From  foes  to  guard  thee,  and  from  ills  to  save. 

Elizabeth. 

I  erred  indeed.     No  doubt  some  kindly  wing 
Of  blessed  angel,  or  fair  tutelar, 
Hath  hung  our  pathway  round  ! 

[Adiel  becomes  visible.] 

Adiel. 

Yes,  blessed  pair ; 
My  pleasure  it  hath  been  to  guard  your  way, 
And,  though  unseen,  to  guide  your  pious  feet  — 
That  early  thus,  your  worship  may  be  paid 
Where  heaven's  high  King,  and  yours,  doth  dwell 
with  men. 


10* 


114  ADVENT. 

Elizabeth. 
I  startle  not --albeit  that  from  heaven, 
Thy  bright  unsullied  sheen  proclaims  thee  dropp'd, 
Spirit  of  Beauty,  that  thou  thus  dost  come, 
E'en  like  a  meteor,  on  my  dazzPd  sight ! 
Of  late,  have  angels  been  familiar  friends  — 
We  look  unwither'd  on  their  flaming  wings ; 
And  scarce  with  awe,  admire  their  high  deport  — 
So  like  the  days  of  Eden  are  our  times  ! 
Yet  for  thy  guidance  do  we  yield  thee  thanks  — 

Zacharias. 

And  with  our  hearts  we  bless  thee,  angel-guide, 
For  safe  protection  on  our  darksome  way  ! 
Still  lead  us  onward,  that  mine  eyes  may  see 
Th'  incarnate  image  of  the  Godhead  here, 
That  so,  I  weary,  may  depart  in  peace, 
To  whom  full  long  it  hath  been  prophesied, 
I  should  not  die,  'till  I  had  seen  the  Lord. 

Elizabeth. 

But  who  are  these  ? 

[The  Shepherds  enter.  Ruel  starts  backward  on 
seeing  Adiel ;  and  the  Shepherds  bow  in  rever- 
ence.] 


ADVENT.  115 

Reuel. 

[To  the  angel.] 
—  Ah,  blessed  spirit,  hail ! 
That  led  me  safely  to  my  home  last  eve  — 

[To  Zacharias.] 
And  peace,  most  reverend  father,  with  thee  be  ! 

Zacharias. 

The  God  of  peace  preserve  thee,  oh,  my  son  ! 
And  joy  with  us  !     Messiah  hath  appear'd  ! 

Adiel. 

[To  the  Shepherds.] 
As  well  as  ye  know  — 

Reuel. 

—  As  our  blest  ears  have  heard 
From  angel  vouchers  !     Guide  us,  spirit  fair, 
To  where  he  dwells  ;  we  seek  his  holy  feet ! 

Adiel. 
Come  then  with  me.     This  day  is  glorious  — 
And  first  of  men,  ye  pay  the  homage  due 
To  Jesu  Christ ;  which,  on  this  hallow'd  morn, 


116  ADVENT. 

For  thousand  years  his  followers  shall  yield  ! 
This  day  shall  be  a  festival  through  time  ; 
And  on  its  bright  return,  year  after  year 
Of  their  redemption,  shall  the  nations  crowd 
To  holy  temples,  deck'd  with  verdant  wreaths, 
—  The  fir,  the  box,  the  pride  of  Lebanon  — 
And  there,  (as  ye  this  blessed  morning  do) 
Shall  hail  the  mercy,  that  has  deign'd  to  stoop 
From  heaven's  high  throne,  to  tabernacle  here. 

[They  depart.] 

Scene  changes.  A  long  avenue  of  palm-trees,  at 
the  end  of  which  is  seen  the  manger,  with  the  star 
resting  above  it.     The  wise  men  enter. 

Omar. 

Yonder,  methinks,  must  be  the  lowly  roof ! 

First  Sage. 

The  angel  so  described  it  — 

Another. 

—  And  the  star 
Hath  settled  pillar-like,  and  o'er  it  burns  ! 


AD  VEIS  T.  117 

Omar. 

And  is  the  Lord  of  glory  cradled  here  ! 
Foxes  have  lairs,  the  birds  of  air  have  nests, 
And  more  unworthy  man  hath  downy  beds, 
And  hath  this  God  no  pillow  for  his  head  ! 
Oh,  evermore  my  heart  a  temple  be, 
A  dwelling  for  his  praise  ! 

First  Sage. 

— And  here,  we  rest 
Till  further  bidding  of  our  angel  friend. 

\Adiel  approaches.] 

Another. 
Yet  rest  not  long,  I  ween  !  For  look,  here  comes 
Another  god-like  shape  ;  and  with  him,  too, 
The  shepherds,  whom  the  angel  bade  us  meet ! 

Omar. 

Aye,  and  a  pair  beside  of  rev'rend  mien ; 
Belike,  the  parents  of  the  herald  boy, 
Whom  the  bright  spirit  spoke  of — 

[Adiel  enters  with  the  Shepherds,  etc.~\ 

—  Welcome  then, 


118  ADVENT. 

Blest  messenger !  Thou  comest  not  unhoped  ! 
Oh  tell  us  —  is  yon  humble  cot,  the  home 
Of  His  high  glory,  whom  we  haste  to  greet  ? 

Adiel. 

It  is,  blest  sages  !     Go  ye  in  his  gates 
With  joy  and  gladness  !  So,  in  future  years, 
—  As  often  as  this  holy  season  comes, — 
Shall  princes,  such  as  you,  their  presents  bring, 
And  heap  the  altars  of  the  God  they  love, 
With  richest  ofFrings,  and  perfumes  divine. 

Omar. 

Oh !  here,  in  precious  caskets,  have  we  brought 
Odours,  the  sweetest  that  Idume  yields  — 
Incense,  that  well  a  seraph's  urn  might  fill  — 
And  gold,  the  brightest  that  from  Ophir's  mines, 
Ere  sparkled  to  the  sunbeam.     Better  far, 
(As  we  have  been  instructed)  would  we  bring 
Our  soul's  pure  homage,  and  the  sweet  perfume 
That,  from  a  lowly  heart,  we  waft  to  God  ! 
Go,  then,  forerunner  of  our  happy  path, 
And  lead  us,  where  these  tributes  we  may  lay, 
At  the  blest  feet  of  earth's  most  rightful  king. 


ADVENT.  119 

Adiel. 
Come  then,  and  enter  ye  his  courts  with  praise ! 
Thus  do  I  greet  you ;  for  as  kings  ye  come 
To  cast  your  crowns  before  him ;  and  as  born 
In  Gentile  lands,  to  own  his  rightful  sway 
O'er  nations,  that  in  darkness  long  have  lain  ! 
So,  kings  of  earth  to  his  bright  rising  throng  — 
And  all  by  holy  prophet  ever  writ, 
May  here  be  proved  ! 

For  thou,  most  rev'rend  priest, 
Hast  come  to  view  the  ending  of  the  law  — 
The  types  and  shadows  all  at  length  fulfilled  ! 
And  she,  thy  spouse,  that  Salem's  daughters  now 
May  meet  their  well-belov'd,  and  know,  at  last, 
By  him,  the  serpent's  cursed  head  is  bruised  — 
While,   with   you    still,   approach   these    humble 

swrains, 
To  view  the  tender  shepherd  of  us  all  — 
To  learn,  that  but  his  pastured  sheep  are  we, 
Who,  with  his  kindly  crook,  shall  lead  his  flock, 
To  pastures  ever-blooming,  ever  fair. 
[Adiel  rrmishes,  as  they  arrive  at  the  door  of  the 
manger.'] 


NOTES. 


NOTES 


Note  I. 

It  has  been  suggested  to  me,  —  I  know  not  with  how  much 
sagacity,  —  that  the  title,  Ji  Mystery,  itself  demands  an  explana- 
tory note.  As  the  word  is,  indeed,  somewhat  technical,  I  sup- 
pose that  to  many,  a  few  words  on  its  history  may  not  be  unac- 
ceptable ;  and  the  critic  and  scholar  will  of  course  excuse  me, 
for  repeating  what  must  already  be  so  familiar  to  him,  while,  in  as 
few  words  as  possible,  I  remind  the  less  professional  reader,  of  its 
meaning,  and  the  propriety  of  its  present  usance.  To  those  who 
would  more  fully  examine  the  subject  of  the  Mysteries,  and  their 
influence  upon  the  dramatic  poetry  of  the  moderns,  I  beg  leave 
to  recommend  an  interesting  treatise  of  Bishop  Percy's  on  the 
English  drama,  to  be  found  in  his  valuable  collection  of  eld  rhyme, 
the  Reliq'ies  of  Ancient  English  Poetry. 

The  Mysteries,  then,  were  dramatic  representations  of  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  Scripture  History,  which  were  most  in  vogue 
during  the  dark  ages,  and  which  were  performed  chiefly  by  the 
monks  and  ecclesiastics,  for  the  entertainment  and  instruction  of 
the  people.  Their  name  was  derived  from  the  fact,  that  they 
were  generally  designed  to  illustrate  and  explain  the  more  ab- 
struse articles  of  our  belief,  and  to  indoctrinate  the  laity  with 
firm  faith  in  the  more  mysterious  parts  of  our  religion.  It  would 
seem  that  the  representation  of  the  circumstances  attending  our 
Saviour's  Advent  was  a  particular  favourite,  and  more  frequently 
and  universally  presented  than  any  other.  The  Passion,  the 
Resurrection,  and  the  Slaughter  of  the  Innocents,  were  themes 
also  in  high  repute  ;  and  eventually  any  Bible  story  was  foun- 
dation for  these  shows.  They  were  generally  exhibited  at  the 
great  festivals  of  the  church,  and  on  each  occasion  the  representa- 
tion w:ts  of  course  appropriate.  At  first  they  were  mere  pantomime ; 
words,  sentences,  and  protracted  dialogue,  were  of  after  origin, 
and  came  in  by  degrees.     So  the  Mysteries  were  improved,  and 


124  NOTES. 

built  upon,  until  at  length  they  quite  died  away  in  the  Moralities. 
These  Moralities  were  nothing  more  than  dramatic  allegories, 
intended  to  impress  religious  truths.  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  of 
Bunyan,  is,  in  many  parts,  a  fair  specimen  of  the  successors  of 
the  Mysteries. 

But  the  Mysteries  have  substantially  existed  even  in  our  own 
times  ;  though,  of  course,  not  under  the  old  title,  nor  in  their 
perfected  form.  In  countries  which  still  adhere  to  the  Roman 
See,  there  have  been  exhibitions,  even  of  late  years,  which  much 
resemble  those  in  which  the  Mysteries  took  their  rise.  I  have 
not  the  book  by  me  for  reference,  but,  if  I  mistake  not,  there  is  in 
the  work  entitled  "Buck's  Religious  Anecdotes,"  an  account  of 
several  such  performances,  exhibited  within  this  century  in  some 
papistical  cities  of  Europe,  as  appropriate  ceremonies  for  the  cele- 
bration of  Good- Friday  and  Easter. 

These  Mysteries  were  thus  the  origin  of  the  revived  drama. 
From  them,  profane  writers  took  the  hint  of  the  Histories  ;  and 
hence  such  anomalous  dramas  as  Shakespeare's  Henry  Fourth, 
and  the  rest.  The  Masques  displaced  the  Moralities,  and  Comedy 
succeeded  the  Masques.  From  the  Histories  came  the  purer 
form  of  poetry  — the  "gorgeous  Tragedy;"  and  soon  the  sock 
and  buskin  were  treading  the  stage  in  all  the. dignity  of  their 
ancient  conformation. 

In  present  usage,  any  Scripture  play  is  properly — A  Mystery. 
But  for  a  religious  drama  strictly  conformed  to  rule,  some  more 
specific  title  would  probably  be  preferred.  The  Samson  Agonistes 
of  Miiton,  which  is  modelled  after  the  severest  master-pieces  of 
the  Greeks,  is  therefore  much  more  appropriately  styled  a  Trage- 
dy,—  not  in  the  title  page  indeed,  but  in  the  mottoes  and  the  pre- 
face. 

Note  II. 
It  may  be  proper  to  state,  that  in  the  choice  of  names,  I  have 
had  respect  to  euphony  not  alone,  but  also  to  significance. 
Ithiel,  means  the  coming  of  the  Lord ;  Jldiel,  the  witness  of  the 
Lord  :  Reuel,  the  Shepherd  of  the  Lord.  Serah,  has  several  very 
beautiful  meanings,  and  among  them  are  the  translations,  lady. 


NOTES.  125 

the  song,  and  the  morning  star,  Omar,  was  chosen  chiefly  for 
its  euphony,  and  because  it  is  early  mentioned  in  Scripture,  as 
the  name  of  one  of  the  dukes  of  Edom  ;  but  it  means,  not  un- 
happily, he  that  speaks. 

Note  III. 
1  Here  the  knit  months  seem  children  of  a  birth,  fyc'     Page  15. 

That  this  description  of  the  climate  of  Palestine  is  strictly  true 
I  am  by  no  means  certain ;  for  how  frequently  do  the  inspired 
writers  speak  of  the  snow,  the  hoar-frost,  and  the  hail !  Yet  the 
season  is  without  doubt  much  milder  there  than  in  our  latitudes, 
although  perhaps  not  quite  so  halcyon  as  here  represented. 
Granting  the  popular  opinion  of  the  genuineness  of  Christmas- 
Day,  we  must  infer  that  the  shepherds  who  first  kept  Christmas- 
Eve  on  the  hills  of  Bethlehem,  were  either  very  enthusiastic 
lovers  of  their  employment,  or  else  had  no  notion  of  the  sea-coal 
fire  and  yule-log,  of  later  days. 

Note  IV. 

4  So  ''h  a  lore  him,  and  fen  now 

His  gentle  r.ign  is  in  the  world  begwiS     Page  17. 

It  is  well  known  that  at  the  time  of  our  Saviour's  appearing', 

::p!e  of  Janus  was  shut,  and  an  universal  amnesty  was 

:.  in  accordance  with  many  prophecies  of  Scripture,  and 

'ion  of  the  happy  influences  of  the  reign  com- 

rioae  of  Peace. 

Note  V. 

1  They  in  turn 
etch  to  the  dark-browed  Elhiop  friendly  arms, 

fa  common  sire.''     Page  20. 

not  been  much  improved,  in  this  respect  by 
:ing ! 

11* 


126  NOTES. 

Note  VI. 

1  So  as  the  prophet  sung,  ftc'     Page  20. 

The  admirer  of  Holy-writ  will  readily  perceive  where  I  have 
been  indebted  to  that  never  failing  fount  of  poesy,  throughout  the 
poem.  To  others,  no  apology  is  due  for  the  appropriation.  I 
have  therefore  not  thought  it  necessary  to  insert  the  passages  re- 
ferred to,  or  quoted,  in  these  notes. 

Note  VII. 

1  By  the  fiery  Styx  we  swear,  5fc.'     Page  30. 

According  to  heathen  mythology,  the  oath  by  this  infernal 
river  was  terrible  even  to  the  gods  themselves  :  and  as  the  fair 
humanities  of  old  religion,  are  the  devils  of  ours,  it  seems  proper 
to  represent  these  fiends  as  swearing  according  to  the  formula  of 
Pluto  and  Proserpine. 

Note  VIII. 

'  Jlnd  then  perchance 
Loosed  for  a  season,  but  with  weakened  might,  <^c.'     Page  34. 

It  is  the  belief  of  some,  that  several  disease  which  were  com- 
mon before  the  advent  of  Christ,  have  since  entirely  ceased.  Le- 
prosy, and  demoniacal  possessions,  are  instanced  in  proof  of  this 
assertion.  Perhaps  it  is  true :  and  at  all  events,  the  notion  is 
pretty  as  a  fable.  We  know  that  the  oracles  of  the  heathen 
were  abandoned  by  the  demons  that  had  aforetime  haunted  them, 
at  about  this  period.  Milton  has  beautifully  noticed  this  fact  in 
his  exquisite  ode  on  the  Nativity.  As  to  the  extinction  of  these 
diseases,  I  am  not  so  sure.  Leprosy  is,  I  believe,  wholly  un- 
known now-a-days  ;  —  I  mean  of  the  physical  kind.  But  as  for  de- 
moniacal possessions,  —  I  fear  they  cannot  be  so  easily  disproved. 
To  say  nothing  of  some  sects  of  religionists,  whose  faith  and 
practice  evidently  contradict  the  theory  —  what  are  we  to  think 
of  the  omniscient  subjects  of  clairvoyance  ?  or,  what  would  have 
been  king  Saul's  opinion  of  them  ?   old  women  as  they  are,  they 


NOTES.  127 

would  scarcely  have  passed  for  prophets  with  him  ;  and  unless, 
like  other  men  of  sense,  he  understood  their  knavery,  they  would 
certainly  have  been  tortured  for  possessing  a  familiar  spirit.  He 
who  so  distinguished  himself  for  hunting  out  witches  of  old,  would 
surely  have  been  somewhat  skeptical  as  to  the  mere  humanity  of 
such  as,  though  stone-blind,  are  capable  of  looking  through 
mountains  and  millstones,  and  of  seeing  to  the  antipodes,  as 
some,  whom  no  one  will  take  to  be  wizards,  have  pretended  i3 
done. 

Note  IX. 

'  •:?  stubborn  fate 
Decrees  it,  it  must  be,  tyc.J     Page  36. 

Perhaps  it  is  not  improper  to  assign  to  the  doctrines  of  fatalism, 
such  a  respeetable  antiquity  as  this.  Demons  have  ever  been 
consistent  fatalists,  since  they  first  patched  up  by  its  aid,  the 
ignominy  of  their  overthrow ;  and  whether  in  their  spiritual 
shapes,  as  here — or  incarnated,  as  in  the  French  revolution, — their 
deeds  have  ever  shown  that  the  doctrine  is  held  and  honoured, 
as  an  heir-loom,  by  their  very  extended  and  influential  family. 

Note  X. 

'  Adiel  comes  out  in  the  form  of  a  beautiful  female.1     Page  41. 

For  Horace  has  well  ordained, 

u  Nee  Deus  intersit,  nisi  dignufl  vindice  nodus 
Incident" 

And  Milton  happily  gives  me  this  licence,  since 

"  Spirits  when  they  please 

May  either  sex  assume." 

Note  XL 
•  .  I     Ik  r  i'.>l  of  a  Saviour,  that  thall  Ira  ',  $'  .'      Paje  41. 

i  raid  and  forerunner  of  Joeboa,  aa  St.  John 
the  Bapti>t  was  of  Christ     Jeshua  >v  i»  also  the  n&me   of  the 


128  NOTES. 

Saviour,  which  we  have  in  English,  Jesus,  through  the  Greek  and 
Latin  ;  and  Hebrew  scholars  tell  us  that  this  signifies  in  substance 
—  a  Saviour. 

Note  XII. 

1  His  meat  the  honey  shed  from  Shenir's  trees.'9     Page  45. 

The  wild  honey,  upon  which  the  Scriptures  tell  us,  St.  John 
the  Baptist  subsisted  in  the  wilderness,  has  been  supposed  to  be 
of  a  description  elsewhere  mentioned  in  Scripture  as  deposited 
upon  the  leaves  of  trees,  and  often  dropping  to  the  ground  in 
pure  and  beautiful  globules.  This  sort  of  honey  is  also  men- 
tioned by  modern  travellers.  It  is  more  wholesome,  and  less 
cloying  to  the  palate,  than  that  of  the  ordinary  kind,  so  that  it 
might  well  furnish  sustenance  to  a  man.  Those  who  love  to  read 
passages  that  are  never  old,  and  who  would  see  a  beautiful  story 
of  this  dropping:  honey  in  language  as  sweet  and  as  nncloying  as 
itself,  will  not  blame  me  for  reminding  them  of  the  fourteenth 
chapter  of  the  First  Book  of  Samuel,  if  they  are  already  acquainted 
with  it;  nor  for  pointing  it  out  to  them  if  they  have  heretofore 
overlooked  it. 

Note  XIII. 

1  Numberless 
As  those  that  seen  in  Doihan,  tyc?     Page  53. 

See  a  beautiful  account  of  this,  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  the  Se- 
cond Book  of  Kings. 

Note  XIV. 
'  So  ti  slifies  the  Sybil,  ^c.'     Page  63. 

The  expectation  of  the  birth  of  some  extraordinary  personage, 
at  the  timrt  of  our  Saviour's  advent,  was  universal  among  the 
nations.     Of  this,  the  Pollio  of  Virgil,  is  sufficient  evidence. 


NOTES.  129 

Note  XV. 
'  Thou  knowest  it  hath  been  full  long  foretold,  4*c.'     Page  63. 

This  prophecy  of  Balaam  was  well  known  to  the  eastern  magi ; 
and  it  is  the  opinion  of  many  eminent  divines,  that  these  wise 
men  were  the  descendants  of  the  prophet.  The  reader  may  refer 
to  Bishop  Newton  on  this  prophecy,  and  also  to  Home's  Intro- 
duction ;  in  both  which  this  notion  is  adopted. 

I  would  mention  here,  that  for  the  greater  interest  it  adds  to  the 
story,  I  have  adopted  the  old  notion,  that  these  wise  men  were 
princes.  This  is  the  tradition  ;  and,  of  the  thousand  pictures  of 
the  Epiphany  which  are  extant,  I  have  never  seen  one  in  which 
they  were  not  represented  either  as  crowned,  or  as  casting  their 
crowns  at  the  feet  of  the  infant  monarch  of  them  all. 

Note  XVI. 
1  Oh,  may  that  blessed  power  our  minds  illume,  8fc.J     Page  67. 

This  yearning  after  divine  instruction,  as  characteristic  of  the 
more  noble-minded  of  the  heathen,  was  suggested  to  me  by  the 
well  known  beautiful  answer  of  Socrates,  to  the  question  with 
which  Alcibades  foiled  the  philosophy  of  that  wisest  of  idolaters. 

Note  XVII 
*  There  doth  he  rest,  a  God  —  the  God  who  rules,  ^c.'     Page  70. 

I  am  well  aware  that  the  attributes  of  deity  here  enumerated, 
form  but  the  smallest  and  least  glorious  part  of  the  character  of 
the  Christian's  God.  But  these  are  only  enumerated  by  [thiel,  as 
introductory  to  more  full  explanations  of  the  chief  glory  of  the 
Divine  Being  whom  he  announces.  These  are  the  most  promi- 
nent attributes  of  the  Almighty,  and  the  least  abstract,  and  are 
therefore  best  adapted  for  the  first  lesson  in  theology. 


130  NOTES. 

Note  XV1IT. 
'  I  do  remember  of  a  lay  Pre  heard,  ^c.'     Page  76. 

I  have  fathered  this  story  of  the  angels  upon  an  old  Rahbin, 
chiefly  because  there  is  some  doubt  whether  the  text  in  Scrip- 
ture concerning  the  loves  of  the  "  sons  of  God,"  should  be  inter- 
preted as  they  generally  are.  The  R,abbins  however,  used  to 
think  as  our  version  says  ;  and  so  does  Josephus.  They  are 
noble  psssages  for  poetry,  at  all  events.  Genesis  vi.  —  1,2  and  4th 
verses. 

Zuleika  is,  according  to  Persian  tradition,  the  name  of  Poti- 
phar's  wife ;  as  see  in  a  note  to  the  Bride  of  Abydos. 

Note  XIX. 
1  Peace  cometh  to  men  of  gcod-xcilV     Page  S9, 

This  is  the  reading  of  the  vulgate,  and  I  believe  of  all  the 
Romish  translations.  How  they  derive  it  from  the  Greek  I  am 
at  a  loss  to  know, — but  no  doubt  the  sentiment  is  true  enough, 
however  unauthorized  it  may  be  as  Scripture. 

Note  XX. 
1  Now  I  bethink  me,  there' 's  a  prophecy,  fyc.1     Page  112. 

The  readers  of  old  English  poetry,  will  at  once  recognise,  in 
this  little  episode,  the  prominent  features  of  a  very  beautiful 
fable,  often  alluded  to  by  the  older  writers,  and  very  sweetly  sum- 
med up  by  Shakspeare,  in  the  following  passage  from  Hamlet: — 

"  Some  say,  that  ever  'gainst  the  season  comes 
Wherein  our  Saviour's  birth  is  celebrated, 
This  bird  of  dawning  singeth  all  night  long: 
And  then  they  say,  no  spirit  dares  stir  abroad  ; 
The  nights  are  wholesome  ;  then  no  planets  strike  ; 
No  fairy  takes,  no  witch  hath  power  to  charm, 
So  hallowed,  and  so  gracious  is  the  time." 


NOTES.  131 

Note   XXI. 
1  To  whom  full  long  it  hath  been  prophesied.1     Page  114. 

I  trust  I  have  taken  nothing  more  than  a  parclonahle  liberty,  in 
thus  accommodating  the  story  of  Simeon,  to  this  equally  venerable 
and  privileged  personage. 

Note  XXII. 
*  The  God  of  peace  preserve  thee,  fyc.1     Page  115. 

The  excellent  Dr.  Buehannan  tells  us,  that  during  his  visit  to 
Syria,  he  met  one  day  in  the  public  streets,  an  aged  priest,  or 
prelate  of  the  eastern  church,  of  very  venerable  appearance,  and 
habited  in  his  ecclesiastical  vestments.  The  reverend  mein  of 
the  good  old  man  so  impressed  him,  that  he  stopped  short,  and 
addressed  him  in  Syriac,  with,  "  Peace  be  with  you"  The  saluta- 
tion was  unexpected ;  and  startled  by  being  so  accosted,  the 
holy  man  looked  at  him  a  moment,  in  surprise.  But  immediately 
recovering  himself,  he  stretched  out  his  aged  hand  as  in  benedic- 
tion, and  pronounced  with  emphasis,  "The  God  of  peace  pre- 
serve thee  /"  I  have  not  the  book  at  hand,  and  therefore  tell  the 
story  in  my  own  language.  But  this  is,  in  substance,  the  anec- 
dote; and  I  insert  it  here  as  the  original  of  the  salutations  given 
in  the  text. 

Note  XXIII. 

1  So,  in  future  years, 
— As  often  as  this  holy  season  comes,  <^c.'     Page  1 18. 

On  Twelfth  day,  or  the  festival  of  Epiphany,  it  has  long  been 
the  custom  of  the  kings  of  England  to  present  gold,  frankincense 
and  myrrh,  at  the  altar  of  the  chapel  royal  of  St.  James',  in  imi- 
tation of  the  offerings  of  the  wise  men.  The  kings  of  Spain  also 
perform  a  similar  ceremonial  at  mass,  on  that  high  day. 


132  NOTES, 

%*  As  this  volume  has  been  printed  from  single  proofs,  it 
contains  some  typograpical  errors,  which  will  generally  be  readily 
perceived  and  corrected  by  the  judicious  reader.  In  the  punctua- 
tion, there  are  some  redundancies,  and  some  omissions  which 
have  occurred  by  unavoidable  accident.  But  as  these,  for  the 
most  part,  will  immediately  suggest  to  the  reader  the  necessary 
alterations,  I  deem  it  unnecessary  to  supply  any  further  Errata 
than  the  three  following,  which  are  the  most  important  ones  :— 
On  the  53d  page,  there  should  be  no  period  at  the  end  of  the  3d. 
line  ;  on  the  82d,  no  comma  between  the  words  too  and  like  in  the 
fifth  line  ;  and  on  the  88th  page,  the  fourth  line  should  read  thus  : 
Nay,  the  stars  leave  us.  The  reader  can  correct  the  former  two 
of  these,  by  a  slight  use  of  his  penknife  in  erasing  the  superfluous 
points. 


I 


•Ml 

'III 


